


A Royal Affair

by Guestswithoutbags



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha Lotor (Voltron), Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Lance (Voltron), I probably won't include allura though because fuck dat ho, It's not really ABO in the sense of like knotting and shit I just like the dynamic, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, Keith's a dick, M/M, Modern cum like Cinderella decor - you know what I mean?, Omega Lance (Voltron), One instance of physical abuse, Prince Keith (Voltron), Slow Burn, Top Keith (Voltron), honestly it's a hot mess, more tags to follow as the story progresses, this is a shit show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guestswithoutbags/pseuds/Guestswithoutbags
Summary: Lance had always imagined his perfect wedding. He dreamt about meeting "The One" in a ‘love at first sight’ scenario. Perhaps they would meet on a train during rush hour when it was standing room only. Maybe the train would jolt and Lance would fall into their arms or they would fall into his. They would both apologise profusely, of course. Their ‘sorrys’ would be spoken at the exact same time, just as they made eye contact with each other unable to look away. Then they’d blush and giggle nervously. He’d extend his hand out to them with a confident, “Lance”, and they would smile, a genuine smile and take his hand and say…“Are you fucking serious!?”Well…not that.
Relationships: Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 204
Kudos: 386





	1. A Good Start

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys,
> 
> I stumbled across this gem, as I was looking through my WIPs and decided to post it. 
> 
> I will be working on it but it will be slow and I don't know when I will have the next update for you all.
> 
> If you want any background to the story aka the ramblings that go on in my head, hit me up on Tumblr: Guestswithoutbags or on Twitter: @Guestsnobags

Lance had always imagined his perfect wedding. He dreamt about meeting "The One” in a ‘love at first sight’ scenario. Perhaps they would meet on a train during rush hour when it was standing room only. Maybe the train would jolt and Lance would fall into their arms or they would fall into his. They would both apologise profusely, of course. Their ‘sorrys’ would be spoken at the exact same time, just as they made eye contact with each other unable to look away. Then they’d blush and giggle nervously. He’d extend his hand out to them with a confident, “Lance”, and they would smile, a genuine smile and take his hand and say…

“Are you fucking serious!?”

Well…not that.

“Keith, please,” the man with the black and white hair voiced in warning, his eyes fixed on the boy who had made the outburst.

In fairness to him, Lance got the feeling that ‘Keith’ hadn’t been told why they were all there until that very moment. At least that’s what his face had comically given away. His eyebrows had almost flown off his head and his jaw had practically hit the floor when Lance was introduced as his ‘fiancé’. At least Lance had been given a few days to digest the idea of having an arranged marriage – not that he was ecstatic about it either. It didn’t exactly fit in with his vision of life and he was more than just a little bit bitter that he wouldn’t have a classic romantic story to tell his kids, but hey-ho, sometimes life doesn’t work out as you had planned. Case in point. Now.

The boy, Keith, was positively raging, as he viciously pushed his chair away from the table and jumped to his feet.

“Absolutely not. No way. No fucking way. Fuck this,” he spat as he began to stomp off, stopping to direct a middle finger at Lance on his way out of the room, as though Lance was responsible for the whole debacle.

“And fuck you,” he snarled, baring his teeth. He made sure to slam the doors as if people needed reminding that he wasn’t a very happy bunny.

The rest of the table sat in deathly silence, the echo of the doors almost coming off their hinges rang through the room. Lance, who was sure he was rivalling the redness of the tomatoes in his salad didn’t know where to look. This wasn’t what he expected at all. When he had agreed to the marriage, he, at the very least thought that the other party would be on board. Had he known he was going to be pied off spectacularly, he would have stayed at home.

This was humiliating.

“I apologise”, the man with the black and white hair who had introduced himself as Prince Shiro, finally broke the silence. “Keith can be…difficult,” he shot a sympathetic smile towards Lance who cringed into himself even more.

Fucking hell what an understatement. Difficult? Ha. More like, off his fucking tits. Still, at least Lance had found out the guy was a complete psychopath before he had the ring on his finger. Lucky escape he told himself. Lucky. Escape.

He looked towards his mother and father who were sat with unreadable expressions, trying to catch their eye so he could wordlessly communicate that he wanted to get the fuck out of there.

“It’s understandable,” his father replied politely. “Lance had a similar reaction when we told him,” he chuckled lightly, obviously trying to gloss over the shit storm that had just occurred.

Lance’s eyes widened.

Similar reaction?!

Lies.

Liza Minelli. LIES.

The cheek of it!

Similar reaction!? Similar reaction his left bum cheek!

When his parents had sat him down and broke the news to him that his life wasn’t actually his own and that they had sold him off to some knock-off Prince of Persia, Lance had taken it quite fucking well if truth be told. As well as you could take something as earth-shattering as that.

Okay, so yes he had complained relentlessly about it, and yeah, maybe he had shed a tear or two over the thought of leaving his family to go and live with some random dickhead in a castle. But did he go around effing and jeffing and flipping people off? Heck no.

God, he was furious. First the unwanted rejection and now this? Christ! How much more of an emotional beating could he take? He wanted to scream, to take a page out of Keith’s book and start doling out some middle fingers. But he wasn’t stupid. Lance knew better than to call his father out on his blatant lie, even if doing so meant that his good name was slandered. He respected his parents and unlike Keith, he had been raised to have some god damn manners.

Instead, he suffered silently, knowing full well that he was going to have the tantrum to end all tantrums on the way home. He was already calculating how many days of silent treatment he would treat his parents to.

“He will come around….eventually,” the man who was sat on Shiro’s left-hand side said with a small smile, rivalling the one Shiro had given him. It reeked of sympathy and that pissed Lance off even more. He didn’t need their sympathy. He couldn’t give a shit that Keith didn’t want to go through with it. He’d done Lance a fucking favour. They didn’t need to feel sorry for him. If anything, he felt sorry for them for having to deal with Keith’s bullshit.

“Well, that’s the thing Kolivan,” Coran, the McClain’s advisor began, “I need not remind you that Lance is…shall we say 'special'? “ he smirked whilst twizzling his moustache, “Why, there is already another suitor interested in him!”

Lance snapped his head up rapidly to look at Coran. Had he heard him right? Another suitor? What another suitor? His parents hadn’t mentioned anything about another fucking suitor. They had to be bluffing!

“Wait, what?!” he whispered urgently to Coran, careful to keep his voice as low as possible. He wasn’t supposed to speak; he had been instructed to sit quiet and look pretty. But that was before Coran had dropped the bomb to end all bombs on him.

Lance waited patiently for a reaction that never came and quickly turned his attention to his parents who looked away from him sheepishly.

Un-fucking-believable.

So not only had they tried to pawn him off on the shit Prince Caspian but they clearly had another, shitter version of him waiting in the wings. There was a reason they’d visited Prince Emo first wasn’t there? Maybe he was the best of a bad bunch. Christ, what was waiting for him at the next destination? A troll? Some really old guy? A shoe!?

Oh, fuck that! Bring back the raging Jon Snow, right now!

Kolivan raised his eyebrow at the admission and exchanged knowing looks with Shiro and another man who was sat on Shiro’s right.

“May we ask who the other suitor is?”

There was something about his tone of voice that made Lance want to laugh. It was urgent and needy but masked poorly as indifference. Lance couldn’t help but think Kolivan would make a terrible poker player.

Coran turned to look at Lance’s parents, wordlessly asking permission to spill the beans. Lance’s father nodded once in reply.

“Prince Lotor.”

Lance just about managed to keep his jaw attached to his skull at the admission. Prince Lotor? Prince fucking Lotor? Prince ‘Sexiest Royal as voted for by Vanity Fair 5 years running’ Lotor? Yes fucking, please. Jesus Christ! If it was true, what the fuck were they still doing entertaining these chumps? Where did Keith place in the rankings? Oh, who fucking cared? He wasn’t number one that was for sure.

Kolivan looked nervously to Shiro, who Lance noted, had schooled his face into an unreadable expression.

“Yes,” Coran nodded, “So you can see why we don’t want to wait for an ‘eventually’.”

Kolivan nodded again and Lance wanted to roll his eyes. Why they were still here, he had no idea. Had they told him he had a choice: Prince Keith or Prince Lotor, he would have told them there and then that Prince sexy blonde locks Lotor had him at hello, and they wouldn’t be here wasting everyone’s fucking time on Prince My Chemical Romance who had probably gone to his room to write poetry on his shit life and how everyone was out to get him.

“Please be assured Duke and Duchess McClain, we are interested,” Shiro said genuinely, “We would like to ask you, if you would be so kind, to give us today to change Keith’s mind. We will, of course, accommodate you in our finest suite and you are more than welcome to take one of our drivers to explore the city. We also have private chefs on hand who will ensure that you feast on our finest cuisine, and should you need anything, our housekeeping staff will be more than happy to assist you.”

 _Son, you can put us up in a solid gold room complete with the fountain of youth and that still wouldn’t sweeten the deal_ , Lance thought. Now that Lotor had been added into the mix, Prince Anger-Management surely didn’t stand a chance. His parents had to realise that – they had seen how he had reacted to a simple statement, they couldn’t possibly want Lance to spend the rest of his life with that lunatic!

Lance watched in horror as his parents leant in towards Coran, whispering fervently with each other. To him, it was a no brainer and he really hoped they would sit back and say, “Thank you for your offer but we’d rather shit in our hands and clap. Good day kind sirs, this has been most unpleasant.”

Unfortunately, as such was his life, instead Coran said: “And if you cannot change his mind?”

Shiro bit his lip anxiously thinking through his response. Lance suspected he was already regretting only asking for a day to change The Lord of Darkness’s mind. He’d probably need a fucking millennium.

Finally, after a prolonged pause, he said: “Then we shall waste no more of your time.”

Coran and Shiro’s eyes remained locked and it surprised Lance that Coran didn’t look to his parents for confirmation of the deal.

“Very well.” Coran smiled, “We gladly accept your kind offer.”

Kolivan seemed to exhale in relief and each party stood to signal the end of the meeting. Lance followed Coran and his parents around the table to shake hands with the three men. He tried to not look as disappointed as he felt and managed a polite smile as he shook each hand.

“Don’t worry,” Shiro smiled down at him when it was his turn, “He’s not that bad when you get to know him, honest.”

Lance threw him another polite smile. He didn’t have the heart to point out to Shiro that by 10am tomorrow, he and his family would be on their way to casa del Lotor.

****

Keith knew he could be a bit of an asshole.

Scrap that.

Keith knew he could be a massive asshole but in his defence, if he wasn’t surrounded by complete bellends, he might have more of a shot at being a nicer person.

Who the fuck makes that kind of decision about someone’s life without even consulting them first?!

It wasn’t like the other decisions that were made for him. You know, like what he was having for dinner that night or what he was wearing to one of those god-awful balls that he had to attend. He didn’t care if people decided on those kind of things for him because they didn’t matter. But this… This was….this was his future! Like fucking seriously, picking your spouse is like a really big deal, isn’t it? It’s probably one of the biggest decisions of your life, and they had the fucking audacity to wheel in a random stranger with a, "Oh hey, Keith. This is Larry your fiancé".

Had he known what he was walking into, he could have at least prepared for the worst. But no, instead they decided to yank the fucking rug from under his feet and drop a shit storm on him. So really, it’s no wonder that he had reacted the way he had.

What the fuck were they thinking?

Like seriously? How did they think he would react? Jump for fucking joy? Whip out a ring he had hidden in his pocket and scream “FINALLY!”??

In hindsight, Keith could have handled the situation better. He, of course, knew that. Now that he had had the chance to calm the fuck down, he realised that it probably wasn’t the wisest thing he’s ever done swearing in front of the Duke and Duchess of Altea. Nor should he have launched the middle finger at their son, ‘Larry’ or ‘Lawrence’ or whatever the fuck his name was. But whatever, he wouldn’t have to see them again, at least not for the foreseeable future anyway. He’d just get his assistant to send a fruit basket or something. Accompany it with a card with his apologies on. Blame his bad temper on the stress of ruling a kingdom and hope ‘Luke’ had better luck next time yaa-dee-yaa-dee-yaa.

A knock on Keith’s door broke him out of his thoughts and he sighed heavily, closing his eyes in despair.

Shiro.

It was always Shiro.

God, did they have to do this now?

“Go away!” he called out in an annoyed tone.

Shiro ignored the command as Keith predicted he would and yanked open the door, striding into the room. Keith knew he would be glaring at him with one of his ‘disappointed’ looks. It was probably the one he used whenever Keith was not being an exemplar representative of the royal family. It seemed to make an appearance on a daily basis.

Keith sighed again, “No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“Yes I do. You’re going to tell me that I have to apologise which I’m already planning on doing. Then you’ll try to convince me to give ‘Liam’ a chance which isn’t going to happen because I’d rather fucking die.”

Shiro folded his arms across his chest, “First of all, it’s ‘Lance’ and secondly – Jesus…you’re so dramatic, do you know that?”

“Am I wrong?” Keith questioned, tipping his head back in his computer chair to finally look at his brother.

“Well…no,” Shiro admitted reluctantly.

Keith twizzled his chair around to face him properly, “Wow. I didn’t think you’d crack this easily.”

“Look,” Shiro began. He strode across the room and took a seat on the bed and Keith’s heart sank knowing that this was not going to be a short conversation.

“I don’t need to remind you that you are running out of time.”

“We’re all running out of time, Shiro,” Keith remarked sarcastically, “One day you’re a fun-loving child on the cusp of manhood, the next, you’re a barely twenty-year-old adult whose brother is trying to force you into a marriage you don’t want.”

“Keith,” Shiro warned, “You know you have to be married by the time you are 21 if you are to be King.”

“And I have made it clear that I do not want to be King.”

“You don’t have a choice, Keith.”

“Why not!?" Keith demanded for what felt like the millionth time, "Why can’t you be King? We both know you’d be better at it.”

“We’re not doing this,” Shiro spat bitterly, “You know why I can’t. I have no claim to the throne.”

When Keith was a child, he never really understood the rules of royalty. He didn’t know why he was a prince but his friends weren’t. Or why he lived in a castle when his friends all lived in regular houses. His mother had tried to shield Shiro and him from their 'other' life and strived to give both boys a relatively normal childhood with as few royal commitments as possible. There was the odd occasion where they would have to dress up and attend dinners with way too many forks and posh napkins, and people would refer to Keith as ‘his highness’ but those were few and far between. He knew he was a prince but he didn’t know what that really meant. It wasn’t until his mother and father were killed in the war when he was 13 that he really understood what it meant. It meant that his life was over. It meant that his life wasn’t his own.

Suddenly the world was watching him. There were no more friends, no more fun and certainly no more freedom. He went from being a happy-go-lucky child to a dreadfully unhappy adult overnight.

He had always assumed that Shiro would be next in line for the throne. He was certainly better suited. He was the older, more mature and level-headed prince– a perfect candidate for a king, and by rights, the throne should have been his! But then it was revealed to them that Shiro had had a different mother, one who died whilst giving birth to him. She was never mentioned and the only thing Shiro had to remember her by was her engagement ring that he had worn on a chain around his neck ever since he found out about her.

It also served as a constant reminder that he could never be king.

Keith had never understood the rules of royalty.

“That’s bullshit and fucking archaic! Just like this fucking marriage rule!” Keith shouted, throwing his hands up in despair. He knew he was being childish but he couldn’t stop himself. Like he said, Shiro was always the better candidate for a king.

Shiro shrugged half-heartedly, exhausted from having the same fight again, “That may be so, Keith. But they are the rules. We cannot afford to lose the throne. If we are to keep the peace, you must be king.”

Keith kept his eyes fixed on Shiro as he thought through his response. He knew his brother was right, as always. If Keith didn’t take up the role, it would fall into the hands of the next in line, which just so happened to be a member of the family who was partly responsible for the deaths of his parents, that and the ten-year war that they had started. He couldn't afford to be selfish. This wasn't just about him. It was about the people...his people. Millions of Daibazal residents who would be subjected to an imperialist regime if it was to fall into the next in line's hands. Keith wasn't about to let that happen, even if it did mean going through with a marriage he didn't want.

He sighed long and hard, “Fine. But I don’t know why I cannot choose my own partner,” he remarked childishly. He knew he was fighting a losing battle but he was still a little bit pissed off about the whole, ‘Oh, we’ve chosen a husband for you. Meet Leonardo’.

“Because I don’t think you’re capable,” Shiro deadpanned.

“Well, that’s fucking rude—“

“—You’ve never been on a date. You freaked out that one time you did get asked out. You hate socialising. Whenever someone new even tries to get to know you, you’re immediately suspicious and think that they’ve come to assassinate you.”

Keith flushed with embarrassment, “That’s…that’s—you don’t even know--”

“James.”

“He _was_ trying to kill me!”

“He was your tennis partner, Keith. Tennis.”

“He kept aiming for my fucking head!”

“And you speared him to the floor and held a dagger to his neck.”

Keith opened and closed his mouth several times, doing his best impression of a goldfish.

“So yes, we went ahead and picked out a partner for you. Sue us,” Shiro said, a smirk working its way onto his face.

Keith sat in silence, still crimson from the memory of having to be pulled off of James, who he later found out was so nervous around Keith, he could barely hold a racket.

“I wanna pick my own partner!” Keith finally shouted indignantly. So he had never had a boyfriend? So what? It didn’t mean that he couldn’t _get_ a boyfriend. Or, you know…a husband. He wasn’t that pathetic that he needed his fucking brother to hook him up to get laid. At least let him have a little bit of dignity!

“Okay,” Shiro replied, his voice dripping with amusement, “You can pick your own partner. How’s about that?”

Keith glared at him suspiciously, “Why do I feel like there’s a catch?”

“Oh there’s no catch,” Shiro smirked, getting to his feet, “But good luck finding a male omega who also happens to be a royal and gay.”

Fuck. Keith hadn’t thought about that. That other fucking rule. So not only did he have to be married by the age of 21 but he also had to marry an omega and not just any old omega - a royal omega. On top of that, Keith was gay and royal male omegas who just so happened to be gay were as rare as a first edition shiny Charizard in a pack of Pokémon cards.

He narrowed his eyes, “Surely it can’t be that hard.”

“Two. There’s two in the whole world.” Shiro replied with a smile. He had clearly done his homework.

Keith swallowed, trying to save face, “Fine, then I’ll contact the other—“

“--He’s 92, Keith.”

Keith’s mouth fell open comically.

“But like I said,” Shiro began, heading towards the door, “You can pick your own partner. Go nuts.”

“Oh fuck you, Shiro.”


	2. Engagement.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I…um…I would be delighted to marry your son.” Keith continued quickly, accompanying his words with what Lance presumed was an attempt at a smile. 
> 
> It was terrifying.
> 
> It looked to Lance as though he had just gambled on a fart and it hadn’t gone in his favour. Fucking hell. If that was his attempt at smiling…Jesus!
> 
> Also, how disingenuous could you be?
> 
> Delighted to marry your son – like fuck you would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance's POV

“So, like…okay, I’m just gonna come out and say it. Why the heck are we still here?”

Lance had waited patiently until they were in the safe confines of the limo before he had made his outburst. The ten-minute walk to the car had been absolute torture, made all the more painful by Kolivan and Thace who had insisted on accompanying them the whole way.

But now they were finally alone – yes, they had one of the Kogane drivers but there was a partition separating them and Lance couldn’t give a flying fuck if the driver heard anything they had to say anyway. It’s not like it mattered.

“What do you mean, my boy?” Coran asked. He was wearing sunglasses and basking on the backseat next to his father, a glass of champagne in hand, clearly taking full advantage of the extra perks they had been given.

“Well, okay, so first of all, I’m a little bit miffed that no one told me about Prince Lotor," Lance began, adjusting himself in his seat so that he was addressing all members of their party, "But you know, I’m willing to overlook that in favour of us getting on the next flight out of here.” He finished, grinning like a Cheshire cat and barely able to contain his excitement.

“And why would we do that?” Coran mused, taking a painfully slow sip of his bubbly.

Why would they do that? _Why would they do that!?_

Lance gawked at him. He couldn't really be this thick, could he? Had he not been present for that shit-show of a meeting? Had he not just witnessed Prince Keith's epic meltdown? Did he not realise that Prince Lotor was waiting patiently for Lance’s arrival? How dare he just sit there casually, sipping Dom Pérignon, wasting time and acting ignorant as shit? How dare he!

“HELLO!?” Lance bellowed at the top of his lungs, causing everyone to jump in their seats and send champagne flying all over the show.

"Prince Lotor?? Prince freaking Lotor?! Prince Lotor who is interested in yours truly!!” Lance gestured wildly to himself, “He’s – god where to start? He’s like an A-list celebrity, not to mention a sex symbol! And he wants me! ME!” Lance gushed, turning to his mother and shaking her excitedly.

“Lance, calm down,” His mother chuckled, as Coran and his father began wiping champagne from the leather upholstery.

But he couldn't calm down. He was buzzing. Absolutely buzzing. His mind kept flitting to images of Lotor stood waiting at an altar. Lotor gazing into his eyes. Lotor slipping a ring on his finger.

He squealed with delight.

“Yes, well, I don’t know what you’ve read in your magazines, Lance. But you’re better off with Prince Keith, let me tell you!” Coran warned, wagging a finger in his direction.

Lance’s smile slid right off his face. Trust Coran to shit on everything, “Are you serious?” He demanded, “Did you not see how that mentalist reacted!”

“Lance, don’t call Prince Keith a mentalist,” his mother scolded, looking warily at the partition, as though the driver might have heard and get them beheaded for treason, “It’s rude.”

“Rude?!” Lance squawked, completely affronted.

He couldn’t believe it. How was stating facts rude compared to the twenty-seven ‘fucks’ Keith had whirled their way? If anything, he was being extremely polite with his description of ‘the king’.

“He’s the one that screamed f-u-c-k at everyone and flipped me off!”

“He’s just…” Coran gestured flippantly with his empty hand, “Emotive.”

Lance snorted. Emotive his left butt cheek. The guy was a prick. There was nothing more to it.

“Well, they clearly hadn't warned Prince Keith about the logistics of the agreement. You weren't thrilled when we told you!” Coran continued, wagging his finger again.

Lance scowled, “That's different."

"How so?"

“It just _is_.”

Coran chuckled condescendingly and helped himself to another generous glass of the expensive champagne which Lance had the sudden urge to biff out of his hands.

It was different. Completely different. For a start, Lance hadn’t popped off the way _His Highness_ had. He had merely whined – a lot. And shed a few tears…and okay, yes. Maybe he did threaten to kill himself once or twice… But that was nowhere near as bad as dropping the f-bomb on complete strangers and almost taking two doors off their hinges!

"Okay, for starters, I didn't break any doors or cause a scene in front of people I don’t know," Lance said indignantly.

“Yes, but only because you had been warned prior to the event.”

“Uh no, it’s because I have fucking manners!”

“LANCE!” His mother and father shouted in unison.

“Jesus, sorry,” Lance blushed, looking down sheepishly, “I just… what’s so bad about Lotor?” He turned to look out the window morbidly and watched as Daibazal shot past in a blur of colour.

He didn’t understand why his parents would want him to be miserable. Surely they wanted to see him happy? It wasn’t like he was being coy about the situation. He had clearly pointed out his preferred choice of a mate. For them to just ignore it and stick to their guns was cruel.

Lance has spent his entire life believing he was his own person, with his own hopes and his own dreams. His parents had been loving and caring and had never once made him feel like he was a second-class citizen. But now? Now he was just an omega, to be sold off to the highest bidder. It was bad enough that he was going to have to leave everything he knew behind for a complete stranger. The least they could do was let him pick which stranger he would prefer.

The limo descended into an uncomfortable silence.

“I hate this,” Lance said quietly to no one.

Coran sighed heavily, putting his champagne down and removing his sunglasses, “Lance, How much do you know about Naxzela?”

Lance turned his head back to Coran, “Erm…” he replied eloquently, scanning his brain for any source of information it had on the notorious private nation. “It’s a…it’s a…Well it’s a country…Um, a nice… nice country?” His voice broke off at the end as he realised he knew fuck all about Naxzela other than it was where super sexy Lotor lived.

Coran smirked at him, “Is it?”

“Um…”

“You see it would depend on your definition of nice. My definition of nice does not include an imperialist regime run by a cruel dictator. But each to their own, I suppose.”

Lance raised his eyebrows in shock, “What??”

“Lance, there’s a reason you don’t know a lot about Naxzela. It’s not a nice place. Everything is controlled by King Zarkon - the media, the economy, and especially the people. Even if you don’t marry Prince Keith, we would not let you go there.”

Lance blinked a couple of times, letting Coran’s words set in. It was no secret that Naxela was portrayed as an almost perfect-like state. There was never any negativity in the press, never a whisper of conflict, never a hint of dissatisfaction from the residents. Lance hadn’t thought for a second that all was not as it seemed. He had certainly not considered the fact that there would be a reason for his parents’ decision. He’d been naive, convincing himself that Prince Lotor would have been his better option purely on the basis of how he looked. He should have known there was a catch.

His confusion quickly turned to hurt, as he realised that his parents and Coran had lied to him.

“But you said--”

Coran waved his hands dismissively knowing full well what he was about to say “--Yes, I know. But we needed some leverage. Prince Keith doesn’t have many options and so we—“

“--Lied?”

“No! Not at all!”

“Yes, you did! You said Prince Lotor was interested in me,” Lance snapped, his voice wavering with emotions he was barely holding back. Anger, humiliation and sadness, to name just a few.

How could they be so cruel to him? Toying with him like this? Filling his head with ideas that someone like Lotor, even if he was an evil dictator in the making, might actually be interested in him. The situation was bad enough as it was, they didn’t need to create elaborate stories to make him feel shitty about himself too. He was already well on his way with that on his own, thank you very much.

Coran shrugged, “He is. Very much so.”

“Oh.” Lance breathed, instantly deflating. So Lotor was interested in him…that was….well, interesting.

“Yes. So technically, it wasn’t a lie.”

Lance pulled another face trying to make sense of it all. Coran wasn’t wrong but it still didn’t seem right. Why even threaten the Koganes with the idea of Prince Lotor in the first place? Even if he was interested in Lance? And why did Lance even have to fucking marry Prince Keith at all?!

“Can you just explain to me again why I even have to marry Keith?” He whined, looking at his parents desperately and giving his best puppy dog expression.

They’d had the conversation dozens of times before but Lance had never been given a concrete answer. He had been pied off with Miss America responses like: ‘It’s a wonderful opportunity’, and ‘You’re making your family proud’, and let’s not forget his personal favourite, ‘Your firstborn will be the future king or queen of Daibazal!’ Like that sweetened the deal of being married to someone who clearly hated him. At this rate, they wouldn’t even make it the bedroom, let alone procreate. His parents were dreaming - Keith wanted nothing to do with him, least of all have sex with him. If it came to it, Lance imagined he would be left alone in a room with a turkey baster containing his royal highness’s spunk. The thought made him shudder.

“Why can’t I stay at home? Why can’t I choose who I want to marry? Why can’t I stay with you—“

“—Lance,” his father began in a soft voice, “This is bigger than you. Bigger than all of us. We’re doing this for a reason. And you may not believe us now but it is for the best.”

Lance pouted. If it was for a good reason, they could at least have the fucking decency of telling him what the reason was. At least then he’d have an incentive to go through with it other than the fact that he would be able to get hot and heavy with a turkey baster and that his offspring would get to wear a shiny tiara.

Ooooo…would he get to wear a tiara too?

No. Now was not the time to think about the jewellery he would no doubt get to wear or the fancy clothes that a private tailor would most likely make for him. And it certainly wasn’t the time to fantasise about all the expensive skincare products he would definitely be able to buy with his sugar daddy future king allowance.

No. Now was not the time for that. He was angry. Angry at the fact that he was still treated as a child. He was nineteen years old for fuck’s sake. He was clearly old enough to be shipped off for an arranged marriage but not old enough to know the politics behind it? Yeah. Okay. Whatever.

Lance huffed and crossed his arms angrily, like a petulant child, “Yeah? Well, good luck telling Prince Keith that.”

*****

The next day passed by in a blur. As it turned out, much to Lance’s dismay, Daibazal was actually quite pretty. They had spent their time seeing, what their Royal Driver, Percy, had described as the highlights of the country, driving past the many vineyards, mountains and quaint little villages that were situated just outside Mamora City.

The city centre itself featured grand buildings with intricate designs that had been built centuries ago. Once used to house wealthy families, they now boasted designer fashion brands, hotels, restaurants and museums as their landlords. They were set back from the cobbled roads that ran throughout the city, with large fountains or sculptures serving as junctions. It was beautiful and nothing like the cosmopolitan Altea that Lance called home.

They had stayed in the most luxurious hotel Daibazial had to offer and dined in the finest restaurants. They also had instant access to all the prime tourist spots, jumping the mammoth queues as though they were VIPs. They technically were VIPs but Lance had always been raised to believe that he was no different to everyone else, and he was certainly never allowed to exploit his ‘royal status.’ However, he really couldn’t help himself from throwing a few cheeky winks here and there, at the cute tourists who had definitely recognised him, if their hushed whispers and finger-pointing was anything to go by.

Lance’s favourite place they had visited had been the enormous Galra Stadium. It had once been used as a source of vulgar entertainment for the Royal Family and blood-thirsty public. Criminals were sent there to fight until the death, with the victor winning the right to stay alive for just another week when they would be expected to compete all over again.

Their personal tour guide informed them that the Kogane dynasty had put a controversial stop to the fights, and the stadium was now used as a source of education. They still had daily ‘fights’ but these were merely elaborate shows featuring over the top actors, wielding a variety of weapons to an over-excited crowd.

The McClains were given the royal box for the show – the best seats in the house and Lance couldn’t help but lose himself in the fight. For a brief moment, he completely forgot why they were even in Daibazal. He booed and jeered the less attractive competitor whilst cheering possibly too loudly for the cute actor with the large sword.

When said cute actor was finally defeated by the fuck ugly one, Lance found himself on his feet screaming ‘BULLSHIT’ at the top of his lungs and smacking his hands on the railings. He was quickly ushered out of the stadium by his mortified mother and furious father who proceeded to scold him for twenty solid minutes on his choice of words. Apparently, ‘bullshit’ was not very royal.

All in all, it had been a rather good day, even with the bollocking from his parents. It was only on the ride back to the palace that Lance’s insides began to squirm, as he remembered why they were actually there. And it wasn’t to admire the rustic cobbled streets or watch Z-list actors get funky with swords. It was because of his…fiancé.

Lance was still confident that Prince Keith would not have changed his mind. He fully expected his family to arrive back at the palace to the sight of Kolivan and Thace waiting for them on the royal steps, looking grim. He imagined that they would be holding a red velvet pillow with a letter upon it, and inside, in a nice cursive font, would be a brief note telling them to go fuck themselves followed by ‘Kind regards, H.R.H Prince Keith Kogane. P.s. Oi, nobheads, you owe me a set of doors.’

Unfortunately, the sight they were actually met with was indeed Thace and Kolivan waiting for them on the royal steps, however, instead of looking grim, they were grinning like two idiots.

And that did not bode well for Lance.

They were quickly ushered inside, back to the room where Keith had made his outburst. Unlike before, they were not sat around the grand table in the centre of the room. Instead, Keith and Shiro stood awaiting the McClain’s arrival. They had both had a costume change but still looked as formal as before. Lance noted that Keith had added a dark red cape to his all-black ensemble, held together by a single silver broach of the Kogane family crest – a hand holding a sword. Keith’s mullet had also been tamed and Lance felt incredibly sorry for whichever poor soul had to approach the emo bastard with a hairbrush.

They quickly shook hands; Keith couldn’t even look at Lance when it was their turn, his eyes darting to the side, as if the doors he had almost taken off their hinges were more interesting to look at than his future husband. As soon as he could, he released Lance’s hand and went back to staring at the floor, which seemed to be equally as interesting as the large oak doors.

Coran was making small talk about how wonderful Daibazal was and how enchanting their trip had been. Lance didn’t think the ‘I <3 Daibazal’ baseball cap that Coran was sporting was necessary but Coran had insisted, even trying to get Lance to wear a matching ‘I <3 Daibazal’ t-shirt over his formal garments. Lance tried to meet him halfway, offering to wear the big foam finger he had gotten as a souvenir from the fighting pits, however, his mother had yanked it off his hand as he was exiting the limo with a, “Don’t be a twat, Lance.” So that was that.

“It was simply magical, a great day!” Coran gushed, finally finishing his lengthy ode to Daibazal.

Thace, Kolivan and Shiro were all smiling and nodding politely. Lance noticed Keith still had his head down, continuing with his inspection of the floor. God, could the guy be more obvious? He clearly wasn’t happy with the situation. They were all well aware of that. But did he really have to be so fucking rude about it?

“Once again, we would like to apologise for Keith’s behaviour yesterday,” Shiro said genuinely.

Lance held back a snort. His behaviour yesterday? What about today’s behaviour? When was that apology going to make an appearance?

His mother and father smiled politely and waved their hands dismissively as though it was nothing. As though being told to ‘fuck off’ by the potential king was a daily occurrence to them. Lance couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the performance. It was ridiculous.

Shiro nodded graciously and looked towards Keith expectantly, however, the boy still had his head down. What the fuck he was looking at, Lance had no idea. He really wanted to ask him if knew how necks worked but then Shiro coughed obviously, trying to get his attention.

“Keith. Is there anything you’d like to say?”

At the sound of his name, Keith finally raised his head and blushed when he realised that everyone was staring at him.

Of course, everyone was staring at him! How he thought he was an extra in this production was beyond Lance. He was obviously the star of the show. He was the fucking reason everyone was there. Trying to act like Villager Number 5 wasn’t going to butter any parsnips.

“Duke and Duchess McClain. Please forgive me. There is no excuse for my behaviour.” Keith said robotically, as though he had practised the statement over and over again. He probably had.

“Please, you have nothing to apologise for,” Lance’s father replied kindly.

Lies.

Fucking lies.

They all knew it. Keith knew it. Lance’s dad knew it. Even Percy the driver knew it. Keith had been a dick. Pure and simple. There were many apologies to be had.

“I…um…I would be delighted to marry your son.” Keith continued quickly, accompanying his words with what Lance presumed was an attempt at a smile.

It was terrifying.

It looked to Lance as though he had just gambled on a fart and it hadn’t gone in his favour. Fucking hell. If that was his attempt at smiling…Jesus!

Also, how disingenuous could you be?

 _Delighted to marry your son_ – like fuck you would.

Lance didn’t realise he was scowling at Keith until the boy caught his eye and returned the favour. Before they could get into a proper staring contest, Coran’s voice boomed out a “WONDERFUL!” causing everyone to jump about ten feet in the air.

“JUST WONDERFUL!” Coran continued, clapping loudly and making everyone flinch for a second time.

He elbowed Lance harshly in the arm, and Lance, thinking it was just Coran and his usual flailing limbs, ignored it. It wouldn’t be the first time he had been on the receiving end of one of his overzealous gestures. But then he did again…and then again. On the fourth time, Lance had had enough and turned, shooting him a well-deserved stank face.

“Ow, quit it, Coran,” he hissed.

Coran was giving him a deranged look as though he was trying to communicate something wordlessly to Lance. But being a few fries short of a happy meal, Lance didn’t quite catch on at first, mouthing a “What?!’” at the ginger-haired coot.

“Um, _Lance_ ,” Coran prompted, his eye twitching as though he was trying very hard to keep his shit together, “Isn’t there something _you’d_ like to say?”

 _“Um, no,”_ Lance replied, imitating Coran’s tone perfectly and looking at him like he’d lost the plot. He added a shake of his head before it finally fucking dawned on him what he was supposed to do.

“OH!” he all but yelled, blushing from embarrassment, “Oh…um…I…” he glanced at his parents who were nodding far too eagerly at him, before turning to Keith and rivalling his constipated smile, “I accept.”

Everyone but Keith and Lance breathed a sigh of relief and shook hands once more. Coran even went in for a hug with Shiro who had no choice but to go with it.

“Excellent, excellent!” Coran grinned manically, reluctantly releasing Shiro from his hold, “Well now that that’s out of the way, let’s go plan this wedding!”

Lance’s eyes almost fell out of his sockets in shock, and he was pretty sure Keith had given himself whiplash from how fast he snapped his head up to look at Coran, “What?!” they voiced in outraged unison.

Lance’s parents shot daggers at him and he bowed his head sheepishly, not wanting another bollocking. He would die of embarrassment if he had to endure another twenty-minute lecture, especially if it was in front of his new fiancé and family. Best keep quiet and look pretty.

Keith, however, did not get that memo and ignored the glares he was receiving from Thace, Kolivan and Shiro.

“What do you mean 'plan the wedding'? It’s too early for that!” He yelled desperately, his voice getting more and more hysterical with every word.

“Nonsense, my boy! We only have three months!” Coran chuckled heartedly.

Keith’s eyes widened in horror as he turned to Shiro, “Three months?? THREE MONTHS?!”

Something told Lance, that Shiro and Company hadn't informed his majesty about that little detail. Had they not learnt from past mistakes? Surely they knew how he would react; the boy flew off the handle over the smallest shit. Christ, imagine breaking it to him that they were out of milk or something…

To be fair though, Lance had also not been informed about the nippy nuptials, but did you see him crying about it? No. He’d do that later, in the comfort of his own room...

Shit the bed.

Three months?

Lance knew it would be a quick turnaround but even he thought it would take at least a year to get everything sorted. They hadn’t even announced their fucking engagement to the public – surely that was a feat in itself? And actually, speaking of which, shouldn’t he have a ring? He was pretty sure that 99.9% of engagements ended with a ring on someone’s finger. Keith hadn’t even gotten down on one knee when he had spouted. _‘I’d be delighted to marry your son,’_ and now, no ring? Brilliant. This shit just got better and better. They were probably going to have an Elvis impersonator as their minister at this rate.

“Keith, why don’t you go and show Lance around and take him to his room?” Shiro ventured, clearly trying but failing to calm Keith down.

“NO! Not until you tell me—“

“KEITH! Room. Now.” Shiro warned and the look on his face told Lance that it wasn’t up for discussion. However, the look on Keith’s face said fuck it, he was going to try.

It was alpha vs alpha.

You could cut the tension with a rusty spoon.

Eyes were darting all over the show.

Pass Lance the popcorn this shit was better than the fighting pits. Better yet, what did his mom do with his foam finger?

He watched as Keith and Shiro stared each other down, and he knew that Keith was dying to have another one of his outbursts. In fact, Lance was hoping he would. That way maybe his parents might finally realise that this was not the man for their precious son, and he could go home and meet someone who: a) would actually want to marry him, b) at least get down on one knee during their fucking proposal, and c) actually produce a ring.

He was waiting for it. Any moment now, Keith would tell them to get fucked, call of the wedding and storm out in a blaze of glory, and Lance would be popping the Dom Perignon on the way to Mamora International.

“Fine.” Keith relented through gritted teeth.

What a fucking anti-climax. Lance couldn’t believe it! The emo bastard had actually backed down.

He had expected fireworks - a show to rival the one he had seen at the fighting pits earlier that day. He had even braced himself for the slam of the doors that never came.

Instead, Keith turned on his heel and stalked out of the room as dramatic as ever, not waiting for Lance or even giving him a second glance.

It took Lance all of two seconds to realise he should be following the prince and he quickly bowed to the rest of the group before running to try and catch up to his highness’s unusually long strides.

“Hey, wait up!” He called out, trying but failing to match Keith’s pace. The boy was halfway down the long hallway, leading Lance to suspect he had teleporting abilities, that or he had absolutely legged it as soon as he was out of the room.

Keith sighed loudly which Lance thought was really fucking rude, not that he expected anything less but, you know, he thought a bit of discretion of his future husbands’ apparent loathing of him wouldn’t go a miss.

He finally caught up to him, panting slightly.

“Jeez, you walk fast,” Lance joked, trying his hardest to make the best out of the shit sandwich he had been served. He even smiled at the prince – a genuine smile as well, not like the constipated one his majesty had given him.

“Dining Room.”

What kind of fucking response was that? Lance looked at him expectantly, hoping he would elaborate on the dining room comment but Keith just stared straight back.

Oh. It must be a Daibazal thing. Coran had warned him about all the weird customs. It must be a game they played to break the ice. A bit like ‘I spy’, except shit.

Who listed names of rooms as a form of entertainment? Boring people, that’s who. And he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with this guy? Jesus, kill him now.

“Um…Kitchen?” He replied unsurely.

Keith scowled at him, “What?”

“Oh. Is that one off-limits? Okay, then…um, ballroom?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Are we not playing the room name game?”

Keith cocked his eyebrow at him like he was a fucking moron. Maybe Lance had got it wrong, maybe Keith just had Tourette’s and he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge it.

Shit.

“ _That_ was the dining room, dipshit,” Keith gestured to the room they had just been in. The one whose doors were barely hanging on.

“Oh,” Lance replied.

That…made sense.

“ _The room name game?”_ Keith queried, narrowing his eyes at Lance in disgust.

It wasn’t Lance’s fault that he had got it wrong - the first words Keith had fucking said to him had been ‘dining room’. Excuse him for not knowing what the fuck was going on. AND he had just called him a dipshit! Let’s not gloss over that detail!

“Hey!” Lance shouted, jabbing his finger into Keith’s chest, having had just about enough of his sass. At least he was fucking trying! “I don’t know what you guys do for fun around here!”

“Well not fucking _that.”_

“Well _excuse_ _me_! I’m not the one with a stick up his ass—“

“—I don’t _have_ a stick up my ass!”

“—Coulda fooled me!”

He doesn’t quite know how it happened but suddenly, he and Keith were nose to nose, each equally as red as the other – Keith with rage, Lance from a mixture of embarrassment and fury.

Who the hell did this guy think he was? Lance was a guest – this was not how you treated guests! You offered them a drink and laughed at their terrible jokes. You did not go around calling them dipshits. Who the fuck had raised him? Lance had half a mind to turn around, march right back in the _dining room_ and give Shiro and Company a piece of his god damn mind. Plus, Lance was his freaking fiancé for goodness sake! Yes, after yesterday’s meeting, he didn’t expect rose petals on his bed, but you know a little bit of civility wouldn’t go amiss.

They were breathing heavily, still nose to nose and Lance swore that Keith was a split second away from chinning him. He’d never been in a fight before and he didn’t like his chances against an alpha. But he wasn’t a pussy, he would give as good as he got. He clenched his fists, ready to swing as soon as Keith did, however, the prince suddenly stepped back as though Lance wasn’t worth his time.

“You know what, fuck this! Find your own way around,” Keith spat. He started to walk away, his cape billowing behind him menacingly, whilst Lance just stood there, not knowing what to do.

This was not going well.

“Oh, nice. Real nice,” He taunted as if goading the hot-headed prince, even more, would salvage the situation, “What a great way to treat your fiancé!”

He heard Keith mumble something under his breath but the boy was too far away for Lance to make sense of it.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch that, _your majesty.”_

Keith finally succumbed to the petty quips and stopped, turning to face Lance, “I said, you’re not my fiancé by choice. I didn’t choose you. In fact, if I had _any_ other option, I’d take it.”

Lance tried not to be hurt by Keith’s inflexion of the word any. But it was hard not to be. He was already feeling fragile and was barely holding his shit together as it was. He was going to have a meltdown; he just expected he would be in the comfort of his new room to have it in, rather than a regal hallway.

Keith didn’t want him. He got it. Loud and clear. Why the boy had to keep reminding him of it, he didn’t know. Was it to make him feel even worse? Because he was already at rock bottom, chilling with his dignity and free will, it wouldn’t hurt if his self worth came to join them too.

“You think I want this? You think I want to be engaged to some stranger who doesn’t want me?” He started, voice already wavering and lip quivering, “You think I want to leave my whole family, to come and live in some foreign country with people I don’t know?”

He could feel the tears starting to form in his eyes and tried to blink them away. He didn’t want to give Keith the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Seeing an omega cry. God, he was such a cliché. A minute ago. he had been ready to throw down, and now he was almost crying? Keep it together, Lance.

“I have no choice in this either. I know you don’t want me but we have to at least try and make this work,” he trailed off, feeling the muscles in his face beginning to tense. 

As much as Lance had been against the idea, he knew that when he agreed to the arrangement, he would do his best to make it work. After all, when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, and Lance had always been a glass-half-full kind of guy. He was fully prepared to try and make the most out of their marriage. He was trying. Goddammit. You couldn't say he wasn't trying.

Keith looked at him vacantly and the action hurt Lance more than his insults.

It was like he wasn’t bothered at all. He could see how upset Lance was and he was looking at him like he couldn’t find a fuck to give.

Yeah, Lance had always been a glass half full kind of guy, but sometimes you have to admit that the glass is actually broken and there's fucking liquid everywhere and it's actually just a big shitting mess.

He sniffed and looked away, “Fine. I’ll go and tell Coran that it’s off,” he said dejectedly, turning to make the long journey back to the dining room.

“Wait.”

Lance stopped and turned back to Keith, “What?”

“You can’t.”

“I can’t _what_?”

“Tell them that it’s off. That’s…it’s not an option, okay?”

Lance frowned, “If you had _any_ other option, you’d take it. This is your other option.”

“No. It’s not.”

Lance scoffed and turned away from the prince again, walking towards the dining room, “You don’t want me, Keith.”

Lance heard rapid footsteps coming from behind and suddenly, Keith was stood in front of him, blocking his way.

“Please? Look, I’m… I just….this is really hard for me.” Keith said, his eyes darting around as though he couldn’t bring himself to make and keep direct eye contact with Lance.

“Really? _Is it?”_ Lanced asked sarcastically.

Hard for him? What exactly was hard for him? As far as Lance was concerned, he got the better end of the deal. He didn’t have to leave his home or his family. Nothing would change for Keith, he’d still get to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

Keith bit his tongue and Lance could tell he was desperately trying to stop himself from blowing up again.

“I’ll…I’ll show you around. Come on.”

*****

“So that’s it,” Keith concluded. He had given Lance a very brief tour of the castle, racing past rooms with a flick of his wrist and a one-word explanation. Lance knew he was going to get lost immediately and just hoped the palace staff would be more accommodating than his brooding fiancé. “You can go anywhere, except for my personal gym, my training room and my room, obviously.”

Lance rolled his eyes at Keith’s demands. As if he thought he would be welcome in Keith’s boudoir - he wasn’t completely stupid, “Got it. Stay out of the West Wing.”

Keith narrowed his eyes, “We don’t have a West Wing?” he said, affronted, as though Lance hadn’t been listening to all of the five fucking words he had said to him on the tour.

“It’s from Beauty and the Beast. You know, the West Wing is where the Beast keeps his enchanted rose? He has to get someone to fall in love with him before the last petal falls?” Lance prompted before putting on his best deep voice, “But who could ever learn to love a beast--.”

“--What the fuck are you talking about?”

Right, so his fiancé wasn’t a big Disney fan. Fantastic.

“Nevermind…hey, you don’t have an enchanted rose do you?”

“ _No?”_

“That’s a shame.” It was wishful thinking on Lance’s part. If he did have one, Lance would have gone up there and plucked every petal himself. Save him from this misery. Wait, that’s not how that shit worked was it? The Beast wouldn’t have died, he would just have remained…well… a Beast… Not that Lance was plotting to kill Keith or anything, but if the opportunity presented itself…

“Okay. So. Here’s your room, I guess.”

Before Lance could get carried away with thoughts of pushing Keith into an oncoming train, Keith had gestured to a set of pretty tall white doors, with elegant gold handles.

“Thank you,” Lance nodded with a smile.

“Okay…so… bye.”

Keith had barely gotten the last word out before he was stalking off down the hallway.

“Wait!” Lance called out.

Keith sighed exasperatedly, “ _What now?”_

“Aren’t we supposed to go back to the… um… the dining room?”

Keith looked at him like he was crazy, “Fuck that. You can go back. I’m not.”

“Well, I don’t know how to get there.”

“Were you not _listening?”_ Keith sneered, crossing his arms over his chest, as though he had been done with the conversation, several minutes ago.

“Yes!” Lance bit back, “It was impossible not to. You only said like 5 freaking words to me in total!”

Keith shrugged, “Well that’s your problem.” And with that, he turned and walked away.

“Are you serious?” Lance called out, expecting him to stop, “Keith! Keith!”

But the boy didn’t stop and continued to saunter away like he couldn’t hear Lance or his protests.

Un-fucking believable.

*****

After an emotional goodbye with too many tears and not enough hugs, Lance was exhausted. He watched as his parents’ limo became a dot on the horizon before he finally returned to the palace. Shiro had been very kind, telling him to get an early night, which he gladly did, in his new Californian King Bed which was akin to sleeping on a cloud.

When he awoke he realised he had overslept. He had probably tired himself out from his crying. Not wanting to make a bad impression on his first day, Lance scrambled to get ready and ran like a lunatic through the halls to the dining room which Shiro had instructed him was the place where all meals were served. He was proud to say, he only got lost twice…okay three times but it wasn’t his fault. Who needed that many rooms anyway? Luckily, the palace staff were more accommodating than Keith and they were more than happy to point him in the right direction.

He finally made it to the dining room and was pleased to find that one of the doors was slightly open, meaning he wouldn’t have to make a grand entrance and could just slip inside. That and he was still very reluctant to touch either of the doors, after Keith’s treatment of them.

He was just about to enter the room when he overheard the heated voices of both Shiro and Keith coming from inside.

“Just because we’re getting married, doesn’t mean we have to like each other.”

“Keith, that’s exactly what it means!”

“Please – there’s plenty of loveless marriages.”

“Keith, you’re not even giving him a chance.”

“I don’t _want_ to give him a chance.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“What?! I’m doing as you asked. I’m getting _married_ ,” Keith jeered.

Lance stood outside the room frozen. He was horrified. Is this really what lay ahead for him? _A loveless marriage_? Who was he kidding? Keith was never going to try. It was hopeless. Lance was a fucking fool. He had actually woken up in a good mood, ready to start. Ready to win Keith over. How could he do that if Keith wouldn’t even give him a chance?

Was he really going to spend his life with someone who hated him? Who couldn’t stand him? Was he going to have to have children with this man? God, would Keith even love _them_?

He wanted to cry again but he had no tears left to give. Dejected and feeling quite sorry for himself, Lance decided to return to his room when suddenly, the door flew open and he came face-to-face with a startled Kolivan.

“Master McClain,” Kolivan announced loudly. His eyes widened and he nervously looked behind to catch Shiro’s eye.

Lance wanted to be sassy, to tell him that it was okay, that he’d heard every word but instead, he found himself croaking, “Morning,” with a small smile which blatantly gave him away.

Shiro arose abruptly, “Lance! Join us, please,” he smiled and gestured to the table. It was too enthusiastic as though he felt like he had to put in double the effort.

“Actually, I was just leaving,” Keith declared and threw his napkin down.

So he couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as Lance? That was a new low, even for him.

“It’s okay, I’m not… I’m not hungry,” Lance said sadly, throwing a small smile to Shiro. He turned around, and as quick as he could muster without it looking too pathetic, walked away.

*****

“Do you think he heard?” Shiro asked Kolivan who was still stood at the door, watching Lance’s retreating figure.

“Most definitely.”

Shiro sighed and sat back down. He began to fiddle nervously with his own napkin, as though he was scanning his brain for a solution.

“He’s probably gone to cry about it,” Keith smirked.

Shiro looked up at him in disbelief, “You know, Keith. I never had you down as a cruel person but,” He stood up and shook his head, “If mom and dad could see you now.”

With that, he threw his own napkin down and stormed out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr - Guestswithoutbags  
> Twitter - Guestsnobag


	3. An Interview With A Vampire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance finally gets an engagement ring. They announce their engagement to the public and have to suffer through a live interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was long. Perhaps too long. Sorry. I just wanted to give a background on Keith and Shiro and before I knew it, I'm 10,000 words deep which is fucking ridiculous as that's a dissertation and what the fuck is my life?

“Are you serious?” Lance breathed in amazement, staring down at the box in his hands.

He couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at. A ring…but not just any ring…. _the_ ring.

It had belonged to Queen Krolia and was one of the most famous rings in the world. It was breathtaking; a platinum ring with a large oval blue/purple stone surrounded by diamonds. There were articles written on it, replicas made, copycat engagement rings sold in the thousands at a fraction of the price but nothing could compare to the real thing.

“Yes, Lance. We want you to have it,” Shiro smiled kindly.

“But it’s…it’s...it was…” Lance stuttered, unable to find the right words to say.

“Our mother’s?” Shiro asked, finishing Lance’s sentence for him.

Lance finally tore his eyes away from the ring and looked up at Shiro, “Yeah,” he breathed in awe.

When Shiro had knocked on his bedroom door, Lance had just assumed he had wanted to go over his responses to the interview questions again, to make sure that they were watertight. But then the prince had sat on his bed and whipped out a box containing his dead mother’s engagement ring and told Lance it was his, like it was no big deal, as if he was offering Lance a stick of fucking gum and not a royal heirloom.

Lance knew he would eventually be given an engagement ring but he had genuinely believed that he would be handed some hideous store-bought creation that Keith had begrudgingly gone out and bought on the morning of their wedding _and_ only because Shiro was holding a gun to his head.

He never thought in a million years he would be given a piece of history.

“I think she’d want you to have it,” Shiro said with a fond smile.

Lance continued to stare at him in disbelief, looking for any kind of sign that he was joking. He had to be. There was no way in hell that it would be passed down to a nobody like Lance.

Plus, it wasn’t like Lance and Keith were childhood sweethearts. They barely knew each other. They were acquaintances at best and that’s if Lance was being generous. He couldn’t imagine Keith’s mom looking down on them and thinking, ‘ _Yes. Give it that random Latino boy, I’ve got a good feeling about him.’_

So he waited, waited for Shiro to burst out laughing and say, _“I’m joking you idiot,”_ and snatch the ring out of his hands. He was ready to play along and laugh it all off. Pretend he knew all along that Shiro wasn’t actually being serious. But he didn’t have to do that because the look on Shiro’s face was nothing but genuine and it was all Lance could do to stop himself from bursting into tears there and then.

Since his arrival at the palace two weeks ago, Shiro had shown him nothing but kindness, going out of his way to make Lance feel welcome and wanted, which was the exact opposite to how Keith had treated him thus far.

To say things hadn’t been going well with the future king would be an understatement, and although Shiro had tried to make up for Keith’s apparent dislike of Lance, nothing said _‘I can’t fucking stand you,_ ’ more than Keith’s ability to avoid him. Lance had barely seen the emo prince at all, only catching brief glimpses of the back of his mullet, which was usually leaving the room he was entering.

The ironic thing was, they had announced their engagement merely two days after Lance’s arrival, and although the press release had been very formal, it left no indication that the arrangement wasn’t sought after willingly by both parties.

Lance had almost coughed up a lung reading the sentence, _‘Prince Keith Justin Kogane proposed to Leandro Alexander McClain after a brief courtship whereby the Prince fell for Leandro’s good humour, looks and charm,’_ which couldn’t be further from the truth if it tried. Although Lance didn’t think, _‘Prince Keith was forced into this marriage because he has no other option,’_ had the same ring to it.

Well, at least they had got one thing right, the courtship had been brief. 24 hours brief to be exact. And as much as Lance would like to think he could make someone fall in love with him due to his impeccable good looks, hilarity and charm, the only thing Keith had fallen for was an agreement he couldn’t get out of. 

Still, Lance couldn’t argue. He got off quite lightly in the statement. All they had said about him was regarding his family history, his status as one of only two royal gay male omegas, and the fact that he had graciously accepted the proposal which whilst an exaggeration, was nowhere near as bad as them waxing poetic about the ‘love’ his future husband had for him.

God, Keith must have been furious. Lance was a little bit annoyed that he hadn’t been there to witness his reaction. He wondered which inanimate object had been on the receiving end of his wrath this time?

“So are you going to try it on?” Shiro prompted, snapping Lance out of his thoughts.

“Oh,” Lance blinked, looking back down to the ring in his hands. It really was beautiful. Too beautiful, really. He had only just got his head around the fact that Shiro might not be joking - now he had to try the fucking thing on? Jesus. No pressure then. He delicately took it out of the box and with shaking hands, slipped it on his ring finger.

“It fits?” He said in amazement, holding his hand up in front of his face to admire the view. It was perfect, like Cinderella-glass-slipper-perfect. Like Harry-Potter-in-Olivander’s-when-he-finally- finds-the-right-wand-perfect. It was like it was made for him, not too tight, not at all loose - the one ring to rule them all.

“Let me see?” Shiro took his hand and inspected the fit, “Wow, it’s perfect,” he smiled, dropping Lance’s hand delicately, “I had a feeling it would be.”

“You did?” Lance queried, trying not to let the fact that Shiro had basically just told him he had girly hands get to him.

“Yeah,” Shiro shrugged, “Guess, I was right.”

Lance couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face. Girly hands aside, the ring looked amazing on him if he did say so himself. His tanned skin really made the platinum stand out and he was pretty sure the blue/purple stone matched his eyes perfectly.

“I can’t work out if the stone is blue or purple?” Lance commented, turning his hand this way and that so that the ring would catch the light. 

“Violet,” Shiro smiled again, “It’s Tanzanite.”

“Oh,” Lance voiced, nodding dumbly, “I’ve never heard of that before.” 

Sure he’d heard of rubies, sapphires and emeralds but never Tanzanite. It sounded like something QVC had invented for four low payments of $19.99.

“Yeah, my dad got it specially made for our mom on their tenth anniversary. It was kind of an inside joke between them,” Shiro replied warmly, a nostalgic smile sitting heavy on his lips, “She used to say that my dad’s aura was red, as he was a hot-head with a _very_ short temper.”

“Sounds familiar,” Lance joked.

Shiro chuckled, “You’re not wrong.”

“So why violet?”

“Well, my dad said that my mother’s aura was blue, as she was far more laid back than he was. She was the calmer, more rational one in the relationship. So he picked out a violet stone because when you mix red and blue together, you get purple.” Shiro shrugged dismissively as if saying it aloud seemed kind of dumb.

“That’s….that’s really beautiful,” Lance said in earnest.

It was the kind of story he had always dreamed of for himself. Meeting ‘the one’, knowing that a person was made for you and you alone. Sharing that kind of intimacy with someone. Knowing them inside out. What they loved, what they hated and everything in between. He didn’t know what colour Keith’s aura would be, and the heart-breaking thing was that Keith wouldn’t give a flying fuck either way.

Knowing his luck, Keith’s aura would be red and Lance’s would turn out to be green, meaning that their shared colour would be brown. Maybe Keith would get a piece of jewellery made especially for him on their tenth anniversary, although Lance didn’t need a necklace with a turd pendant on it to remind him that Keith already thought he was a piece of shit.

“Yeah…” Shiro smiled in agreement and looked off to the side wistfully, “And Tanzanite is supposedly the ‘magic stone’. Wearing it on your wedding finger means your life together will be like a real-life fairy tale…or so they say. And _that_ stone in particular,” Shiro nodded his head to Lance’s hand, “Is one of the purest and rarest forms of Tanzanite on earth. Dad only wanted the best for my mom.”

Lance didn’t miss how his smile turned mournful. He kind of felt like a dickhead for even considering that the ring could have been anything other than priceless.

“Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for that fairy tale,” he joked, attempting to lift the morbid mood that had suddenly descended.

He knew that Keith and Shiro were orphans. Everyone did. He remembered the day their parents had been killed like it was yesterday. It was one of those monumental moments that you never forget. He could tell you exactly where he was when the news broke that the King and Queen of Daibazal had been murdered.

It had been terrible. Broadcast on every channel and interrupting any regular programming. The repeated images from the helicopter flying over the scene, and the lifeless bodies of Queen Krolia and King Justin covered by white sheets, being transported into ambulances.

Lance remembered watching the televised funeral with his family. Watching the thousands upon thousands of people lining the streets, as the horse drawn carriage passed them, followed by the two princes who were walking solemnly behind their parent’s caskets. 

Shiro had been 19 at the time and Keith, who was only a year older than Lance, had been 13.

Lance remembered watching Keith as the cameras tastelessly zoomed in on him, capturing his anguish, his despair, his heartbreak. He remembered thinking that it wasn’t right. That Keith should have been allowed to grieve in private. That no one should have to bury their parents at the age of 13 years old.

 _“That poor, poor, little boy,_ ” his grandmother had sniffed, wiping tears from her eyes. Lance had nodded, turning back to look at the TV which was showing a close up of Keith’s face, capturing the moment when a single tear fell from his eye and rolled down his cheek.

Little did Lance know he would end up marrying that heartbroken little boy one day.

Shiro huffed out a laugh, “He will come around....this is just... a lot for him, you know?”

Lance knew what Shiro was saying without him having to spell it out. 

Keith didn’t want to be king.

In the short time he had been at the palace, Lance had picked up on quite a lot of things. He had learnt that Shiro practically ran the kingdom albeit with the help of Kolivan and Thace, and that Keith was just the poster child for the monarchy - like Mickey Mouse for Disneyland. He learnt that Shiro put his heart and soul into everything he did and that Keith just rocked up and provided a signature when it was needed. But the most important thing Lance learnt was that despite everything, Shiro didn’t hold an ounce of resentment towards his baby brother.

It was a cruel irony that Shiro wasn’t the next in line for the throne. On paper, he was the ideal candidate but due to a stupid 10,000-year-old rule, they’d rather give it to his dickhead younger brother who couldn’t run a bath, let alone a country.

It made no sense.

But they were the rules. Shiro had no claim to the throne and much like the death of the King and Queen, Lance remembered the story vividly.

It had come to light at the murder inquest. King Zarkon was on trial for conspiracy to murder Queen Krolia and King Justin when the story _conveniently_ hit the papers. 

Takeshi Shirogane Kogane was a bastard.

It had been quite the scandal. Broadcast on every TV station, splashed across the front page of every newspaper, and featured in every tacky magazine one could buy, complete with glossy pull-outs, promising in-depth accounts of the story the Kogane family so desperately tried to cover up.

Before he had married Queen Krolia, King Justin, who was a prince at the time, had been engaged to Princess Arina Shirogane of Olkarion. She had quickly fallen pregnant, and not wanting to fall out of favour with the public due to getting frisky before marriage, the palace had kept it a secret, with only a few trusted employees knowing of the princess’s condition. 

They were due to be married well before the birth, which would have been fine. They would have lived happily ever after. Shiro would have been a rightful heir to the throne and Keith would have been just a glint in his father's eye. But that never happened, of course. Instead, Princess Arina died giving birth to an extremely premature Shiro, leaving King Justin aged 20, unmarried and with an illegitimate child. 

To make matters worse, the king at the time, Shiro and Keith’s grandfather, King Alexander, was on his deathbed and died a mere 2 days after Shiro was born. To salvage the situation, the palace confirmed the unfortunate and sudden deaths of both Princess Arina and King Alexander and capitalised on the public’s sympathy by rushing in Lady Krolia, a childhood friend of King Justin’s. They were quickly married, cementing the Kogane’s continued reign over Daibazal.

Queen Krolia announced her pregnancy immediately and several months later, Shiro was introduced as their first son, born prematurely. They gave him the middle name “Shirogane” as a tribute to Princess Arina - a feat which was greatly admired by the public. Their ‘second’ son, Keith was born six years later.

“So,” Shiro slapped his hands on his knees, jolting Lance out of his thoughts, “How are you feeling about today?”

This was what Lance had originally thought Shiro had come to speak to him about. Today was the day he and Keith would be making their public debut as a couple. Not only did they have to endure an intimate photoshoot together but they also had to somehow get through a televised interview which was going out live, meaning they had to get it right on the first take - there was zero room for errors.

“Weirdly confident, actually,” Lance smiled, making his hand into a fist so that he could admire the ring some more, “I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it or not but I’m quite the performer.”

Shiro huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, I got that. Do you know your lines?”

Shiro and company, with the additional help of Coran, had prepped Lance and Keith at great length on the kind of questions they could expect to be asked. Lance had taken it in his stride, answering perfectly and gaining compliment after compliment for his _‘fantastic and well-worded answers’_. Keith, on the other hand, was a monosyllabic shit show and even Coran’s constant enthusiasm was stripped away by the end of their prepping session. 

He couldn’t blame him, the boy couldn’t improvise to save his life and Lance had lost count on how many ‘ers’ he had uttered, whilst looking like a deer in headlights - and that was with people he knew! Lance shuddered to think about what he was going to be like today with none of his entourage prompting him. It would be up to him to save it.

 _“Do I know my lines?”_ Lance scoffed and put a hand to his chest in mock outrage, “Shiro, I am a professional. _Of course,_ I know my lines! Don’t you worry, I won’t let you nor the citizens of Daibazal down, I promise.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Shiro grimaced and Lance could tell he was more than just a little bit anxious about Prince Keith one-word Kogane.

Lance smiled sympathetically, “Don’t worry, I’ll try and do the talking.”

*****

“Why do we have to do this? Wasn’t that god-awful press release enough!?” Keith huffed out, yanking his face away and out of reach of the makeup artist who was attempting to apply even more foundation.

“Keith, believe it or not, this is kind of a big deal. It’s not every day, the future King of Daibazal gets engaged.” Shiro replied. He was leaning on the counter next to Keith, rifling through a tacky magazine, which just so happened to feature the most unflattering photo of Keith on the cover, accompanied with the headline, ‘HRH FINALLY gets engaged’, as though he was a freak of nature for not being married at the ripe old age of 20.

“It’s bullshit. Like, I sort of _get_ the photoshoot thing but the _interview_?” Keith remarked irritably, throwing a stank face at the poor makeup artist who was hesitating with a tube of concealer in hand, as though she was afraid Keith might bite her if she went near him with it. 

To be fair to her, he probably would, given the mood he was in.

He had been fucking thrilled to learn that not only did he have to participate in a cheesy photoshoot with Lance attached to his arm but he also had to sit down with the notoriously conniving interviewer, Diane Donnelly, from the Daibazal Broadcasting Corporation (DBC) for a _‘royal special_ ’. If that wasn’t bad enough, the interview was going out live, meaning he wouldn’t be allowed to swear or have a second go at answering one of the idiotic questions, she would no doubt ask him.

Well, wasn’t that just fan-fucking-tastic?

Oh! And let’s not forget about that fabricated piece of shit press release, which made Harry Potter look factual. Like seriously? He’d ‘ _fallen for Lance’s good looks, humour and charm’_? Yeah, fucking right! All he’d fallen for was a series of unfortunate events, starting with his birth and ending with the death of his parents.

“It’s customary – the people want to hear from you, you’re getting the reputation of being quite…” Shiro paused, as though he was thinking of a word that wouldn’t provoke Keith, “Elusive,” he concluded, flicking over another page.

Keith glared at his reflection in the mirror, “I prefer ‘mysterious’.”

“Yes, well there’s mysterious and then there’s being an asshole. Face it, Keith. The public is behind you because of Mom and Dad’s legacy. You have big shoes to fill. So start on the right foot."

Keith rolled his eyes. He was getting pretty tired of Shiro and his constant pep talks. 

When he had finally (and very reluctantly) agreed to marry Lance, no one had said anything about photoshoots or televised interviews. No, they had kept those little gems to themselves, only revealing them to him when they had to i.e. a day before said photoshoot and interview when he couldn’t do anything about it.

He wondered what else they were keeping from him? They were probably going to reveal that they had booked him and Lance on a romantic two-week honeymoon on a private island in the middle of fucking nowhere, just as he was boarding the plane.

God, he couldn’t think of anything worse.

Not to be dramatic but the thought of spending _any_ amount of alone time with Lance made him want to jump out of the nearest window or set himself on fire.

It wasn’t like he hated Lance...he just…it was just...

Okay, so he might have hated Lance.

It wasn’t his fault! The guy was insufferable. He was one of those loud and obnoxious bipolar people who was either laughing his tits off or crying in a pit of despair. There was no in-between with him and it was fucking exhausting to be in his presence.

So Keith made the executive decision not to be. They didn’t _have_ to spend time with each other. They could fake it. As long as they rocked up together to keep up appearances, grinning like a pair of dickheads, dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s, who would know any different? 

“I’m sure the public is going to _love_ me,” Keith remarked sarcastically, wiping off the newly applied lip-gloss on the back of his hand, and throwing a snarky, _“Really?”_ to the makeup assistant who had turned bright red with embarrassment.

“You are a national treasure, they already love you,” Shiro mused, holding up the magazine for Keith to see.

He had stopped on a double-page spread featuring photos of Keith at various stages through his life. The photo of him as a baby cradled in his parent’s arms; his first day of school, hand in hand with his mother; the photo of him crying at his parent’s funeral. All the classics were in there.

Keith rolled his eyes again and looked away. “Do you think they’ll still love me if I flip them the finger and tell them to get fucked on national television?”

“Keith.”

“I’m kidding... Jesus. And you say that _I_ need to lighten up.”

“How was that a joke? You would _definitely_ do something like that.”

Despite what his brother and company thought of him, Keith wasn’t a complete moron. He knew how important this was to their legacy - to the people of Daibazal. He wasn’t about to undo centuries of work just because he didn’t like his fiancé.

He scowled at his reflection in the mirror and immediately reached for the wet wipes, “Oh yee of little faith,” he sang before scrubbing at his face and removing all trace of the make up the poor artist had just painstakingly finished applying, leaving his skin red raw.

Shiro frowned and watched as said makeup artist burst into tears and fled the room, “Would it kill you to be nice?”

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

Shiro sighed heavily and Keith knew he was debating whether or not to go and console the girl and apologise for Keith’s behaviour. Instead, he asked, “Do you know your lines?” with an air of forced indifference.

“Yes! God! Stop asking me!” Keith snapped defensively. He knew what Shiro was getting at. It was obvious. He thought that Keith was going to fuck up. Everyone did.

Shiro raised a hand as a peace gesture, “I just want to be sure--”

“--Well you can be sure,” Keith replied curtly.

He couldn’t.

The truth was that despite being ‘prepped’ for hours by Shiro, Thace, Kolivan AND Coran, Keith didn’t have a fucking clue what he was going to say. He’d forgotten almost everything they had discussed and it would be a god-damn miracle if he could get through the thing managing to remember his own name, let alone answer the question of, _‘What attracted him to Lance?’._

Fuck.

What was he supposed to say to that?

 _“Well, Diane, it was either_ _that or a 92-year-old, half-dead troglodyte. So I took my chances.”_

Oh yeah, the viewers would _love_ that!

Actually, maybe he should have gone for Baron Barclay of Winchester - the other omega. The guy surely didn’t have long left in this world and he’d only have to suffer through what? Like 2-5 years of torture at most before the old geezer croaked it?

Lance, on the other hand, was a spring chicken. Lance was for life. How old did Shiro say he was again? 19? 

Shit. 

How long would it be until Keith could file for divorce? A month? A week? 3 days?

No. Shiro would kill him. He’d make him ride it out for at least a year or five…

Eurgh.

But he could worry about that later. He had to concentrate on how he was going to get through this fucking interview first.

Right, okay. Simple, he’d just say that Lance had nice eyes or something as cliché like that. 

Shit.

What colour were his eyes? Green? He seemed like a green-eyed type of guy…wait, no…brown, they were definitely brown…or were they blue? 

Fuck.

Okay scrap that, maybe he could say something about his kind nature and great sense of humour.

Keith suddenly remembered the room name game…

Okay, it was fine. He just needed a pageant queen response. Something generic that could be applied to literally anything - even a house plant. Easy on the eye, low maintenance, really brightened up a room ya-dee-ya-dee-ya.

It was fine.

It was going to be fine.

Fine, fine, fine.

.....

Fuck.

It was not going to be fine. 

He was terrified. 

Absolutely fucking terrified.

Suddenly it dawned on him that he was going to have to pretend that he didn’t actually loathe Lance and that they were actually ‘in love’.

Fuck.

How!?

How was he supposed to do that!?

There was a reason he was cast as the third reserve to play a dead guy in his school play. He was a terrible actor. He was more wooden than a fucking log cabin. Yet they expected him to go on live TV and trick the whole world into thinking he was in love with someone he couldn’t stand!? Even Meryl Streep would struggle!

“Where is _he_ anyway?” He huffed out in annoyance, trying to mask his panic. The minutes were quickly passing by and he hadn’t seen or heard from Lance all morning, which was unusual. Guy was like a walking megaphone.

Maybe he was feeling exactly how Keith was. Maybe he had woken up and thought ‘Nah, not for me’ and had bailed. Maybe he was already halfway back to Altea.

They couldn’t do the interview if Lance didn’t show up, right!?

Right?!

Just as he was thinking of leaving a trail of cookies out for Lance and then locking him in a cupboard just in case he hadn’t gone MIA and was simply running fashionably late, the fucker appeared in the doorway with a cheery, “The talent has arrived!”

“Fuck.” Keith said, loudly.

“Keith,” Shiro warned, lowering his voice so that only Keith could hear him, “Please, could you just _try_ and be nice to him? Please? For me?”

“I’m not promising anything.”

Lance approached cautiously, as though Keith was a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any given moment and Keith wondered if he had had the pleasure of passing the makeup artist in the hallway. 

“Well don’t you look... um,” Lance hesitated, his face falling as he took in Keith’s appearance, “Why do you look like you’ve just run a marathon?”

“What?” Keith spat, whipping his head to look in the mirror. His face was still comically red from where he had assaulted it with wet wipes, removing the caked on foundation that the artist had said would make him look ‘natural’. Natural his left bollock. Naturally orange more like.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

This was all he needed, going on live TV, barely able to string two words together and looking like a gay Satan.

“Do you need to get some air? Are you hot? Is it because of the interview? Are you nervous? Don’t be. It’s going to be fine. Do you want me to get you some water?” Lance rushed out, looking concerned.

Keith blinked at him, “What the fu...you’ve just asked me like 60 questions???” He shouted angrily, as though Lance was to blame for everything.

“Well, it was five actually and excuse me for worrying about you,” Lance bit back, scowling and crossing his arms across his chest.

He was dressed in his formal Altean clothes which he had worn during their first meeting and Keith hated himself for thinking he didn’t look half bad. Objectively speaking, Lance was a good looking guy. He had long legs that seemed to go on forever, a slender waist and broad shoulders. If he wasn’t such an annoying little shit, Keith might have even said he was attractive.

The angel on Keith’s shoulder was screaming at him to say something nice to Lance, to throw the boy a bone and just give him fucking a compliment. Even a ‘nice shoes’ would have had Lance’s metaphorical tail wagging. Unfortunately, the irate devil on his other shoulder always won out and he looked at Lance as though he was something he had just stepped in.

“Okay, can we get this over with?” He grumbled, flitting his eyes to Shiro with an irritated glare.

The photoshoot and interview were to take inside the palace in the grand study. It had been chosen specifically, as it was always the place his father recorded his speeches in, that and practically every significant royal event had been captured there: The picture of the newlywed King and Queen surrounded by family and friends and smiling graciously; the first picture of a baby Shiro, cradled in his parent’s arms, as they smiled proudly, followed six years later by the photo of a newborn baby Keith in the arms of his mother, with his father holding a 6-year-old Shiro and gazing down fondly at him; and the annual Kogane Christmas photo which, despite protests from their royal advisors, would always see them wearing tacky festive jumpers at the insistence of their mother - a tradition Keith and Shiro still kept alive.

The room held sentimental value to both the Koganes and public alike.

They traipsed into the room, which had been transformed to resemble a studio. One half of the room had been set up for photos, the other half for the interview. Keith was happy to see that his own staff members, Pidge and Matt would be assisting with the events. The brother and sister duo were both wiz kids when it came to any technology and usually handled all of the palace’s technical accessories, like the whole computer network, the yearly Christmas card photo, and that time when the peacocks pecked through the broadband cable.

Keith and Lance were shown their marks in front of the fireplace by one of the many palace staff members. Lance smiled and thanked them, earning him another irritated glare from Keith. Did he always have to try so god damn hard!?

“Does it have to be so fucking bright? I can’t see!” Keith scoffed immediately, holding his hand up to the light.

“Quit your bitching, Kogane. I’m making you look pretty,” Pidge quipped, adjusting the light stand. Keith grimaced and turned his head away from the lights, which he swore she had just made brighter. “Put your hand down, you diva and stop squinting. It’s not that bad!” She yelled, frowning at Keith.

“Is she…does she….do you _know_ her?” Lance asked sceptically, and the mere sound of his voice made Keith want to rip his own skin off.

“No. I let everyone talk to me like that,” Keith deadpanned, looking off to the opposite side to where Lance stood.

“Sadly, we do know each other,” Pidge directed at Lance, offering him a small smile, “I don’t put up with his bullshit like the others though.” She was tinkering with the lights, as her brother, Matt kept looking through the camera lens.

“I think you got it, Katie!” Matt said, leaning back from the camera and shooting her a thumbs up.

“Awesome, well let’s get this shit show on the road. We still have to mic you both up for the interview and sort a fuck ton of crap out for that.”

Lance snorted at Pidge’s vulgarity, which earned him a wink from her.

“Okay,” Matt began approaching the pair, “So what we need is a formal yet loving embrace. You know, something sweet but not too saucy.” He grabbed Keith’s hands and put them on Lance’s waist without asking, Keith instantly tensed up. “Perfect,” Matt mused whilst grabbing Lance’s hands and putting them on top of Keith’s, “We don’t want to give Maureen in Balmera Village a heart attack, right?” He stepped back to survey his work before nodding happily and strolling back over to the camera to start shooting.

“Why are your hands so sweaty?” Keith hissed, adjusting his grip on Lance’s waist slightly. He didn’t think they would have to be _this_ close.

“Why are yours like ice!?” Lance retorted through gritted teeth. 

“Because I’m dead inside.”

Lance snorted, “Ain’t that the truth.”

The room filled with the rapid sounds of the camera clicking and Keith did his best not to look like he wanted to stab someone.

“Okay, Lance, I’m buying whatever it is you’re selling. Keith? Could you look _anymore_ constipated?” Matt commented, stepping out from behind the camera.

The room erupted in giggles and Keith felt Lance shake with laughter.

“What the fuck have I done? _You_ put my hands there!” Keith protested, snatching his hands away and crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.

Matt sauntered back over to Keith, grabbing arms and repositioning them in the same way as before, “It’s not the hands, it's your face. You look as if…. As if…Katie help me out here?” He said, turning back to his sister who was watching from the sidelines.

“Keith, you look as if Lance is holding you there against your will.”

“ _Wow_ , I wonder why that is,” Keith remarked sarcastically.

“You are aware that I can hear you, right?” Lance said sounding hurt.

“This is your future husband, Kogane! Show the boy some love,” Pidge yelled from somewhere behind the lights. 

“I swear to god, Katie, I know where you live!” Keith frowned in the direction of where he hoped Pidge stood. It was hard to see anything other than the 10,000 watt bulbs that surrounded him.

“Empty threat, Kogane, I know where you keep your journal.”

Keith flushed with embarrassment, which wasn’t needed as he was still resembling a fresh bowl of salsa from the wet wipes, “Fuck you, I don’t _have_ a journal.”

“Oh really? So if not you, who wrote the latest entry?”

Keith didn’t dignify her question with a response.

“Because, it sounded an awful lot like you,” she smirked, “You know, emo.”

Lance cackled loudly.

“What!?” Keith demanded, whipping his head to glare at Lance.

“Nothing.”

“You laughed.”

“I had something stuck in my throat.”

Keith scowled at him and turned back to face the camera, “Can we _please_ just get this over with?”

“Well, if you didn’t look like a frigid turd, we’d be finished by now!” Pidge quipped, throwing her hands up in despair.

It wasn’t Keith’s fault he suffered from resting bitch face and _excuse_ him for not being entirely comfortable in this situation. What the fuck did they want from him!?

“Do you want me to tell you a joke?” Lance asked quietly.

Keith rolled his eyes, “If it’s as funny as the room name game, I’ll pass.”

“Okay, that was a miscommunication, how many times do I have to….never mind, okay,” Lance looked around as though he was searching his head for his best joke, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

Keith turned this head slowly, “Are you fucking serious?”

Lance locked eyes with him, “Deadly,” he replied with a straight face.

“Jesus.” Keith breathed out, looking back towards the camera.

***CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK***

“So?” Lance prompted, resuming his easy smile, like he had done this a thousand times before.

He probably had.

***CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK***

“So what?”

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”

Keith scoffed irritably, “I don’t fucking know!”

***CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK***

“To get to the other side, of course,” Lance replied cheerfully, still smiling his perfect smile at the camera.

***CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK***

“Hysterical.”

“Wait, I’m not done.”

Keith groaned.

***CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK***

“Why did the man cross the road?”

“ _What?”_

“Why did the man cross the road?” Lance repeated with a straight face.

***CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK***

“To get to the other side?” Keith said in the most sarcastic voice he could manage.

“Nope.” Lance said, popping the ‘p’.

***CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK***

“Erm… I don’t...to buy some fucking chicken nuggets?!” Keith huffed out exasperatedly.

“Nope.” Lance repeated again, popping the ‘p’ just as obnoxiously as before.

“Okay, fine! Why!?” Keith hissed.

“It’s because he couldn’t get his dick out of the chicken.”

It took Keith about five seconds to digest what Lance had just said. He slowly turned his head and blinked at him, like he couldn’t believe what had actually just fallen out of his mouth.

***CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK***

Lance flitted his eyes to Keith, “I know you want to laugh,” he smirked.

“No, I don’t.” Keith lied.

“Yeah, you do.”

The more Keith thought about it, the more ridiculous it became and pretty soon he had no control over his facial features which seemed to just collapse into a grin. The final straw came from Lance making a ‘Bacawk!’ sound, making him burst out into a fit of giggles.

***CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK***

“You have a nice laugh,” Lance smiled and Keith couldn’t help himself from looking at Lance, still grinning. He noticed that Lance’s eyes were blue. A lovely blue **,** like the ocean.

***CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK***

“We got the shot!” Pidge shouted, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Finally!” Keith yelled, yanking his hands off Lance as fast as he could.

In his effort to get away quickly, he accidentally grazed Lance’s hands and brushed past something sharp. Keith’s eyes instinctively flitted to see what it was he had felt.

What he wasn’t prepared to see was his dead mother’s ring sitting oh so comfortably on Lance’s finger.

“What the…” He rasped, grabbing Lance’s arm and pulling him forcibly towards him.

“Ow, Keith, what the hell—“

“—Where the fuck did you get this!?” Keith demanded furiously. Gripping Lance’s wrist as hard as he could.

“Ow, Keith, let go—“ Lance whined, trying but failing to free himself from Keith’s grasp.

“Take it off, NOW!” 

“Keith, please, you’re hurting me!”

“TAKE IT OFF!”

“Keith what the—let go of him!” Shiro yelled, running to Lance’s aid and yanking Keith’s’ arm off of him, “Have you lost your mind? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Mom’s ring, Shiro?! Mom’s _fucking_ ring!” Keith spat. He was beyond furious at this point, breathing heavily and still trying to get at Lance who was cowering behind his brother.

“Keith, calm down.”

Calm down? Calm fucking down? He _had_ to be joking.

“I SAID TAKE IT OFF!” Keith bellowed, making everyone in the room jump.

It was clear that Lance was upset. He was visibly shaking and trying his best to take the ring off but Keith didn’t give a shit. He wanted to rip his fucking head off. How dare he wear that ring? How dare he even look at that ring!

“Lance, don’t. Keep it on,” Shiro commanded, standing in front of Keith, blocking his way.

“Shiro I swear to god—“

“—Is this a bad time?” The sound of a woman's voice rang clearly through the room.

All heads whipped to the source of the sound to find the DBC interviewer, Diane Donnelly stood in the doorway with her crew and with a clearly delighted expression on her face.

Keith stared dumbly at her, wondering just how much she had seen or heard.

Fuck.

He’d fucked it and they hadn't’ even started.

He could already feel the disappointment radiating off Shiro in waves.

“Excuse me,” Keith uttered quickly, stepping back. His cheeks were burning from a mixture of embarrassment and anger and he turned away from Shiro and quickly fled the room.

*****

“Diane,” Shiro uttered, breaking the deathly silence that had fallen over the room. “It’s lovely to see you again,” he said, striding over to her and shaking her hand.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she smiled wickedly, searching Shiro’s face for any telltale signs of conflict.

Shiro blinked dumbly and it was the first time Lance had ever seen his cool demeanour waver.

“No-no,” he stuttered out of character, “Not, um, not at all. Keith was just...um”

Shit. Lance had never seen him struggle with any social interaction. It was clear he didn’t know what to do or say. He had to save him. He had to do something.

“It’s my fault, Diane,” Lance spoke up, plastering a large smile on his face, “It was supposed to be a surprise. Prince Keith didn’t want me to wear the ring before the big day.” He strode over to her and shook her hand vigorously, “He’d had it resized and cleaned especially but I just couldn’t resist, look at it!” He beamed, thrusting the ring in her face, “Isn’t it beautiful!?”

Diane’s penetrating gaze swept from Shiro to Lance and she cocked one of her eyebrows at him curiously, “It certainly is,” she remarked, not fully convinced. “His Royal Highness seemed quite upset, is he okay?”

“Oh, he’s such a perfectionist, honestly. He’ll be fine.” Lance cooed, taking Diane by the hand and leading her over to the sofas, which had been arranged for the interview, “Shiro? Do you mind going to fetch Keith? Tell him, I promise I will take the ring off straight after the interview.”

*****  
  
  


He had barely closed the door to the library when Shiro appeared.

“I knew you’d be here,” his brother said, flopping down into the armchair beside him.

Keith didn’t respond, it wasn’t like he was trying to hide.

“Look,” Shiro began, “I know you’re angry--”

“--That was _mom’s_ ring,” Keith uttered, failing to mask the emotion in his voice. 

He rarely cried or got upset for that matter. Since his parent’s deaths, he had lost the ability to care about most things. However, what he did care about were the very few possessions he had left of them. That let him know that he hadn’t dreamt it, that he really did have a mom and dad once upon a time. That his fondest memories weren’t some figment of his imagination. They had been real. They had loved him and he had loved them. He couldn’t articulate why those few trinkets were so important to him but he thought Shiro would at least understand.

Shiro sighed heavily, “It’s just a ring, Keith.”

He was wrong.

Keith raised his head to look at his brother with a furrowed brow, “ _Just a ring_?” he repeated, the hurt clear in his voice and on his face, “If it’s _just a ring_ , tell me, why do you wear _your mom’s_ on a chain around your neck?”

He knew it was a low blow. They never discussed Shiro’s real mother. It was an unwritten rule between them. Just like how they never discussed Shiro’s status.

Shiro was quiet for a while and Keith didn’t know whether or not he had finally taken it too far. His brother put up with a lot of his bullshit. His constant mood swings, his outbursts, his rudeness to strangers, but even he had a limit.

“Because I don’t have the memories of her,” he finally said, looking down in defeat.

Keith immediately felt like an asshole, “I didn’t…I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay, you’re angry,” Shiro nodded, looking up at him with a solemn expression.

Keith’s eyes glistened with tears he was desperately trying to hold back and he looked away from Shiro, not wanting him to see him cry, “It’s stupid but I don’t think anyone’s good enough to wear it,” he sniffed, blinking rapidly.

“It’s not stupid, Keith. I’m sorry, I should have asked you first.”

Keith huffed out a laugh, “You know I would have said no.”

“Yeah,” Shiro nodded again, “It’s just…the public will be expecting it, you know?”

“Well the public can fuck off.”

Shiro barked out a laugh and it made Keith smile.

“If only we weren’t royals, ey?” He said, getting to his feet and holding out a hand to Keith, “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Keith took it and Shiro immediately yanked him up out of his chair and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I am sorry,” he said and Keith knew he wasn’t just apologising for the ring.

Keith sniffed into his shoulder, “Just so you know, if we get divorced, like fuck is he keeping it.”

Shiro rolled his eyes and stepped back, holding Keith at arm's length, “Keith. You’re not even married yet. _Please_ don’t be thinking about divorce.”

“I said _if!_ Not when.”

***** 

“Good evening Daibzal, I’m Diane Donnelly and you’re watching the DBC,” Diane said confidently to the camera, as Keith and Lance looked on. They were sitting side by side on an elegant sofa, far too close for Keith’s comfort. Diane, who was perched in an armchair, was sitting opposite them holding court.

“Almost eight years have passed since the tragic deaths of King Justin and Queen Krolia. Their _sole heir_ , Prince Keith was just thirteen years old when he lost both of his parents. We all remember watching as he laid them to rest and we were all worried about what the future held for Daibazal. However, we need not worry anymore. In seven months time, the Prince will turn 21, with his coronation following shortly after. And in just three months time, we will see the Prince marry his fiancé, Leandro Alexander McClain. The palace has been very kind and has granted the DBC an exclusive interview with the prince - _his first-ever_ interview,” Diane grinned smugly, “And with his fiancé no less, who both join me now,” she turned to face them with an overtly sweet-smile, “Well, hello and congratulations!”

There was a brief pause and Keith knew he was supposed to say something but his mind was still festering on the whole ‘sole heir’ dig. It didn’t help that Shiro was stood directly in Keith’s eye line, watching from behind one of the cameras.

“Hello, Diane - thank you so much and thank you for having us, we’re delighted to be here” Lance jumped in before the pause became too long, smiling warmly at Diane, and putting his hand on top of Keith’s. Keith flinched automatically but managed to recover, making it look like he was simply rearranging himself in his seat. He attempted a smile and nodded stiffly in agreement.

“Well,” Diane grinned menacingly, “Before we get on to hearing _all_ about the wedding plans, the first question I have for you is what everyone is dying to know. How _on earth_ did you meet?”

“Well, we’ve actually ‘met’ several times before,” Lance began, knowing full well that Keith’s brain was still missing in action, “Our families run in the same circles, so it was always a quick ‘hello’ here and there. But we actually had our first full conversation at a polo match about...Oh, gosh when was it, Keith?” Lance asked, turning to face him. He was so natural that anyone would believe the bullshit he was spouting; even Keith found himself wracking his brain for this imaginary polo match, “I’d say about a year ago, right, Honey?”

Keith nodded dumbly like it was the only thing he could do and tried not to dwell too much on the pet name Lance had just given him.

“Which polo match?” Diane asked immediately, barely letting Lance finish his sentence.

“I’m pretty sure it was the Altea Queen’s Cup,” Lance furrowed his brow, as though he was thinking hard, “Yes...it was”

Keith nodded again in confirmation and somehow managed to utter out an affirming but croaky, “Yeah” which didn’t go amiss from both Diane and Lance who gave him a startled side glance, as though they had forgotten he was even in the room with them.

“Well, I must say, how _lucky_ is Prince Keith? One of only two homosexual male omegas in the whole royal family and you just happen to meet at a polo match!” Diane laughed wickedly and Keith knew exactly what she was getting at with that comment. 

He now understood why Shiro and company had prepped them. Diane was going to try and catch them out. She wasn’t stupid. She probably knew from the moment she stepped in the room that it was all a sham, if not before. The fact that she walked in on him about to shank Lance over a ring would have just confirmed her suspicions.

Well the joke was on her, He _had_ played in last year’s Altea Queen’s Cup. Whether Lance had been there or not, he didn’t fucking know but if Diane tried to trip him up on it, he had the goddamn receipts, which just so happened to be n the form of the winning trophy which was sat happily on his mantle.

“Yes, well, I think everything happens for a reason,” Lance smiled, squeezing Keith’s hand affectionately.

It took everything in Keith not to snatch his hand away in disgust. He knew he had to let it happen and if anything, Diane’s attitude was making him more determined to prove to her that it was anything but a sham…even though it was.

“Yes, well that’s one way of looking at things, Leandro.” She replied curtly, fixing her gaze onto Keith with a knowing look.

“Oh, please, call me Lance.”

Diane smiled connivingly, still staring at Keith, “Well, Lance,” she said in that tell-tale voice of hers which told Keith she was only just getting started, “Tell me this - what _attracted_ you to Prince Keith?”

Oh fuck. Here we go.

Lance giggled like a schoolgirl and looked over at Keith with a shy smile. God, he was good. How the fuck was he making it look so easy?

“Well, what’s not to notice? I mean, look at him!”

Keith tried his best to smile bashfully but really, he was dying inside. This was fucking awful. He really hoped his grimace came off as an attempt to look humble rather than suicidal.

“I remember playing against him in the polo match and thinking that he was an amazing player. He was definitely the best on the field – everyone was watching him. And then after the game, he took off his helmet and I was like,” Lance paused shaking his head lightly, “I mean, wow…just wow, you know?”

Jesus fucking Christ, kill Keith now.

Diane nodded, looking at Keith with a smirk, “And you, Your Highness? What about you? What attracted you to Lance, other than the fact, you know,” She shrugged flippantly, “he’s an omega?”

Oh fuck. This was it.

Keith blinked at her, scanning his brain for something to say but he had nothing. Absolutely nothing. What was his pageant queen response again? Something about houseplants…

…

What about fucking houseplants!? They’re usually green? Inconvenient? He would no doubt end up killing them?!

Fuck.

He had just started to panic as the silence stretched on when he felt pressure on his hand again. He turned to look at Lance who was offering him a genuine smile, one that said, ‘you got this’ and for some reason, he really needed that.

“Um,” he uttered, swallowing hard and still looking at Lance, “I really liked his eyes. They’re blue, like the ocean.”

The words fell out of his mouth without his permission and he blushed furiously when it dawned on him that not only had he just paid Lance a compliment, he’d also offered the cheesiest fucking response ever.

He watched as Lance’s eyes widened in shock and a matching blush dusted his cheeks too. Keith quickly turned his head away and back to face Diane. “Um, yeah,” He coughed, clearing his throat and trying his best to recover, “His eyes, they’re nice, um…really nice.”

“And how did you propose?” Diane asked without missing a beat.

He felt Lance shift in his seat and knew that he was about to jump in with the answer but somehow, he miraculously found himself reciting the story that they had both been spoon-fed the day before, “I invited him to the palace for the weekend,” he began, trying his best not to sound robotic, “And after dinner one night, I asked him to come for a walk with me in the gardens.”

“We watched the sunset together,” Lance chimed in, shifting closer to him, “and stayed out until we could see the stars.”

Keith could feel Lance’s eyes on him but he couldn’t bring himself to return the gesture. He didn’t think he would ever look at him again after his ‘ocean-eyes’ comment, “And yeah…that’s when I asked him.”

Diane raised her eyebrows, “Did you get down on one knee?”

“ _Of course_ he did,” Lance replied easily and Keith found himself nodding along with a small nostalgic smile, as though he and Lance _had_ watched the sunset together until a blanket of stars had covered them, and Keith, the romantic that he was, had dived onto one knee to pop the question.

Good lord.

“How _romantic_ ,” Diane taunted with an evil smile ”And the ring?” She prompted, her eyes flitting between the two of them for a reaction.

Keith’s face fell instantly and he felt Lance tense up beside him.

Shit.

To say that Keith was still salty about the issue of the ring would have been a complete understatement. It had literally happened about five fucking minutes ago. The dust hadn’t settled, he didn’t want to be the bigger person, and he was yet to treat it like a bridge and get the fuck over it.

Diane must have known it was a sensitive subject, as she was practically vibrating in her seat with excitement. They had been warned about this . About her interview style. She liked to try and get under people’s skin to get a reaction, to get a front-page story, to go viral. Boring interviews got you nowhere. Nice got you nowhere. She was notorious for a reason.

“I gave him my mom’s,” Keith said quickly, trying to keep a level head.

“Of course! I _knew_ I recognised it from somewhere! Let me see!” She cooed, leaning forward to grab Lance’s hand.

Lance did his best to smile through it but Keith could tell he was uncomfortable, his whole demeanour had changed and he had shifted in his seat so that he was sitting ramrod straight, as Diane caressed his hand.

“Stunning, absolutely stunning!” She breathed, turning his hand obnoxiously so that the ring was in Keith’s eye line. “He must be _very_ special to you, Your Highness. Giving him Queen Krolia’s ring? Wow!”

Keith nodded stiffly, “Yeah.”

Diane finally let go of Lance’s hand and sat back, a fake sadness suddenly taking over her, “What do you think _she_ would say if she were here today?”

Keith sucked in a sharp breath. It was inevitable that she would bring up his parents. He thought he would be prepared for it but it was like taking a knife to the heart.

“Um…I don’t know,” he uttered.

“Do you think she would approve of _Lance_ and this _marriage_?”

Even though Keith detested Lance, he immediately had a problem with the way Diane had referred to him. Like he was something she had just stepped in.

“Why wouldn’t she?” he asked abruptly, failing to mask the irritation in his voice.

“Well, it’s just that _some_ people have raised concerns over whether this is a marriage of convenience rather than _love_ ,” Diane shrugged.

“How so?”

“Well, it _is_ convenient, isn’t it?” She smiled cruelly, keeping her stare fixed on him.

Keith threw her a sardonic smile, “Is it?”

Diane cackled, “I’d say so, given the rules of the monarchy, paired with the fact that the only other suitor happens to be a much, _much_ older gentleman. Let’s not forget that there have been zero sightings of the pair of you together at all before today and the first indication we had that you had met someone was that press release which was sent completely out of the blue. The reality is, Your Highness, that the clock _is_ ticking. That you just so happen to meet the only other royal homosexual omegan male, seven months before you are due to take the throne as King – a duty you can only undertake if you are married to an omegan before the age of 21, is either a very, _very_ convenient coincidence, or this is an arranged marriage which has been put in place so that the Kogane dynasty can continue to rule over Daibazal.”

Ding, ding, ding! They had a winner.

Keith was dumbfounded. Diane had hit the nail on the head with deadly accuracy. Either the palace was bugged or it was just _that_ obvious.

There was a long stretch of silence as Keith processed what the fuck had just happened. He didn’t know whether to shake Diane’s hand or to bolt out of his seat and never come back.

“I know I can’t speak for his highness,” Lance said, his voice breaking the uncomfortable pause which seemed to have stretched on for about four months and saving Keith’s bacon one again, “But I would never marry someone I don’t know,” he shook his head sadly, “Or more importantly, someone I didn’t love,” he turned to look at Keith and squeezed his hand again, “Keith has already lived so much of his life in the public eye. I think for him to want to have a little bit of privacy, particularly when it comes to his love life, isn’t too much to ask.”

“Of course not,” Diane replied with fake sympathy, “But you can understand why some people are suspicious, particularly when this has happened before in the family.”

Lance shook his head, “No I don’t understand. I think it would be very foolish to try and repeat history.”

“Would it?”

“Yes. It would. And we would certainly not disrespect the citizens of Daibazal like that, believe me,” Lance bit back with an air of finality.

“Yes, indeed,” Diane smiled sourly, “Well, moving on,” she fluffed up her cards and rifled through them, “So tell me all about the wedding”

*****

They had made it through the rest of the interview without any further hiccups, Diane had stuck to safe questions, asking all the usual bullshit that no one, except desperate housewives and freaky royal enthusiasts, would be interested in: The wedding, Lance’s family, what the future held etc.

The only question that made Keith really want to die was the one about kids. It wasn’t the fact that Diane had asked if they were going to have kids - that was a given. It was the fact that Lance had replied with an excited, “Yes! At least five!”

Well. He wouldn’t be having them with Keith, that’s for sure.

He knew they were almost at the finishing line and he was actually quite proud of himself for not losing his shit once, even with the question about his mom. If he could just get through the next couple of minutes without flipping a table he would be home free.

“Your Highness,” Diane addressed him smugly and the look on her face told Keith she still had a few tricks left up her sleeve, “Will your _half-brother_ , Shiro be taking up the role of best man?”

Keith frowned at her choice of words, “Shiro is my _brother_ ,” he deadpanned, glaring at her in warning.

“Well technically, he is your _half brother,_ after all, you only share one parent.”

“No. He’s my _brother_.”

She scrunched up her nose, “Well, _half-brother,”_ she goaded, with an infuriating shrug of her shoulders.

Keith could feel himself quickly beginning to lose it.

“I see him as my _brother,”_

“And I see myself as eternally twenty-five. It doesn’t make it true!” Diane roared before adopting her mock-sympathy voice, “How has he taken it by the way?”

“Taken what?” Keith snapped, barely able to contain his fury.

“This.”

Keith shook his head at her in bewilderment. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of pretending to know what she was getting at.

“Well, it mustn’t be easy for him, what with him being your older _half_ brother but having no claim to the throne,” Diane suggested, crossing her leg and leaning to the side.

Keith continued to stare at her in silence.

“And it must be difficult for him, seeing you finally in a position to take the throne. After all, he spent 19 years of his life thinking he would be the next king!” She smirked evilly, “And then to find out that he, not only had no claim to the throne but he also had a different mother. Well it can’t be easy, can it?” She finished with the superficial sympathy that even a blind person would be able to see through.

Keith swallowed, trying to calm himself, “I don’t know, you’d have to ask him.” He had begun to fidget, a habit of his whenever he was in a situation he didn't want to be in.

“Prince Shiro has been nothing but supportive,” Lance began. He squeezed Keith’s hand again in support but Keith couldn’t bear it any longer. He yanked his hand away, pretending to need to scratch his head.

Lance knew nothing about Shiro; about what he had gone through; what he had to put up with.

Keith was done. Stick a fork in him, he was done.

Lance didn’t let Keith’s coldness affect him, “He has been such an amazing mentor and we owe him a great deal of gratitude for everything he has done for us,” he continued and Keith didn’t know who he wanted to punch first. Lance or Diane.

“I see,” Diane smirked, watching as Keith shifted angrily in his seat. She probably could sense that she had him exactly where she wanted him.

“So, going back to the guest list,” Diane mused, the corners of her mouth turning up ever so slightly, as she pretended to rifle through her cards, “Will you be inviting King Zarkon and Queen Honerva to the ceremony?”

Keith froze.

A few people let out small gasps of shock, including Lance.

Why the fuck would she ask that?

Why the fuck would he invite his parent’s murderers to his wedding?

Just the thought of them took him straight back to being thirteen years old again, staring at the lifeless bodies of his parents in their caskets. Back to the eight-month inquest that, despite mountains of evidence, couldn’t convict King Zarkon or any individual from Naxzela for that matter. Back to the bunch of balloons that had arrived on the first anniversary, as Shiro and Keith were trying to comprehend how a whole year had passed without their parents.

“Well, your highness?” Diane prompted, practically on the edge of her seat.

Keith stared at her in disbelief.

How could she stoop that low?

“Your highn—“

“--I think we’re done here,” he said, cutting Diane off abruptly. He sprung off his seat and quickly yanked his microphone off, ripping the wires from his body.

“Oh, but Your Highness,” Diane protested, barely able to hold back the grin that was forming.

“Keith – wait,” Lance tried to reason with him, lightly touching his arm but Keith yanked it out of his reach.

“No. I’m done,” he seethed, throwing down his microphone onto the sofa and barging past the cameramen.

*****

“Yikes. Well. I think that was a bit of an overreaction, don’t you,” Diane laughed mockingly, pulling over the top faces to the camera.

“Actually, I don’t,” Lance replied calmly but curtly, “I think he was fully justified to react like that. And I think you knew exactly what you were doing by asking that question.”

Diane looked utterly flabbergasted.

“I ask the questions people want to know,” She sneered defensively.

“No, you ask probing questions with no regard on how they would make someone feel,” Lance said with a sardonic smile, “Now, is there anything else you would like to know? Or should we wrap this up? Oh, and by the way, you are also not invited to the ceremony, in case you were wondering.”

Diane blinked in quick succession, hardly able to believe what had just left Lance’s mouth.

“I – um…well, I…” She stuttered, looking down at her cards, “Th-thank you for um… joining me.”

Lance smiled sweetly, “You are most welcome.”

Diane turned back to the camera, trying her best to recover but the blush on her cheeks made it apparent that she was mortified, “Well there you have it,” she adjusted herself in her seat, pulling her skirt down self-consciously, “A reminder that the wedding will be televised live on the DBC, so do make sure to um…to tune in. I’m Diane Donnelly. Good night.”

“And cut!” The man, Lance recognised as the director called out.

Lance wasted no time in getting up from his seat, wanting to get as far away from Diane as possible. He was immediately approached by Pidge who needed to take his microphone.

“Thank you,” she grinned, as she started to delicately remove the wires from Lance’s body.

“For what?”

“For defending him,” Pidge winked, removing the final wire and walking off.

Lance started to make his exit, nodding politely at the different DBC and palace employees when he felt a hand on his arm.

“Lance.”

Lance turned and saw Diane standing timidly beside him.

“I hope there are no hard feelings. You see, it’s…Well, it’s my job to ask those questions,” she squirmed, holding out her hand for him to shake.

If she thought that an insincere backhanded apology would wash with him. She was mistaken. He and Keith may not see eye to eye. But Keith was still his future husband and Lance would be damned if anyone was going to treat him with that level of disrespect.

He raised his eyebrows and looked her up and down coldly, “Hmm,” he chirped before completely ignoring the gesture and walking away, leaving her looking like an idiot with an outstretched hand.

God, it felt good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith isn't going to be nice for a while. Just be warned. In the next chapter, he's going to be a right dick.


	4. Break Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse before they get better.
> 
> Keith is a nasty pasty to Lance, and Lotor makes an appearance.
> 
> *WARNING* this chapter might trigger some people. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with Reading about physical abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this took me 84 years to write and post but it's probably going to take you 84 years to read.
> 
> It is a BEAST.
> 
> Keith is really unlikeable in this chapter and does something really nasty to Lance so I really do apologise but I promise it's nearly the end of him being a complete prick.

The next day Keith woke up in a foul mood. It was bad enough that he had humiliated himself in front of millions of people, not to mention the fact that he had probably destroyed the monarchy single-handedly overnight. But he also had the added pleasure of knowing that Shiro and Company were definitely going to spend the entire day scolding him on how he had let Daibazaal down…AGAIN - like he didn’t already know. 

There was a reason he didn’t want to be king and this was it - he couldn’t do anything right. Successfully lying to the public about the sham of a wedding? Fucked it. Getting through his first televised interview without losing his shit? Fucked it. Protecting the monarchy and millions of citizens? Absolutely fucked it. 

To top it all off, he was starving. Having locked himself in his room for the rest of the day like the petulant child he was, ignoring anyone who dared knock on his door, he had foregone dinner and his usual late-night snack, lest he accidentally bump into someone who had the audacity to ask him how he was... because, quite frankly, he didn’t trust himself not to stab them. 

_How was he?_ Fucking brilliant, clearly. 

So he was hungry and angry. Hangry, to say the least. Yes, he could have easily picked up the phone and have one of his chefs bring something to him but that would mean actually speaking to people and he never wanted to see or speak to anyone else for the rest of his miserable life. 

Call him dramatic but this was the worst thing that had happened to him since Thace and Kolivan had sat him down at the tender age of thirteen and informed him that his parents had been blown up. 

He wishes he could say that they hadn’t used the words, ‘blown up’ but alas, because they had the emotional intelligence of a dead rat, they had, and it wasn’t until two days later when his parent’s bodies were flown home that it turned out that, whilst they had been caught up in an explosion, they had died from blunt force trauma and not, as Keith had spent the previous two days hysterically thinking, ripped apart with barely an eyeball of them left. 

He still woke up on many nights in a cold sweat from visions of his parents exploding and limbs flying everywhere. 

The sound of his tummy growling angrily reminded Keith of his dire situation. He really only had two options: Spend another day locked in his room, wallowing in self-pity without so much as a TikTak in sight **_or_ ** grow a set of balls and go and face the music. 

Well, he actually had three options. He could always call the palace kitchen and get room service – but that was prolonging the inevitable. The inevitable coming in the form of his relentless older brother who may have been thwarted by a chair wedged under door handles yesterday but would no doubt find a way around it eventually. Keith wouldn’t be surprised if Shiro took the doors off their hinges to get into his room, it wouldn’t be the first time he had done it.

He was really swaying with sticking with his first option but the thought of going any longer without food was making him more depressed than knowing that Lance was still his fiancé. At least with option two, he’d get to enjoy a tasty croissant or bagel as he endured Shiro and Company ripping him a new asshole. And being honest, it would be nothing he hadn’t already heard and handled before. 

He sighed to himself before reluctantly swinging his legs out of bed and heading for the shower.

Option two it was. 

* * *

Keith dragged his feet all the way down to the dining room, soaking up his last few moments of peace. When he finally got to the door, he held his breath and listened intently for the usual breakfast chitter-chatter, hoping to discover what mood everyone was in. 

Unfortunately for him, he was met with radio silence. There was nothing. Not even a ‘pass the salt’. Keith took this as a grave sign - they were all probably too angry to speak. He took a deep breath and stepped into the room as delicately as he could, doing his best to go unnoticed. He expected heads to turn immediately and stare him down like he was some kind of leper. But that didn’t happen. Thace, Kolivan, Shiro and Lance all had their noses buried so deeply in a different newspaper, that even if Keith had burst in with a bass drum on his back, a harmonica in his mouth and cymbals on his knees, like a shit one-man band, no one would have batted an eyelid. 

Keith should have been relieved but their silence was deafening and more unnerving to him than it would have been to have them all screaming at him from the moment he stepped inside. He dreaded to think what the newspapers were saying about him. 

It couldn’t be good. 

He hesitated nervously, trying to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught that was about to occur and stepped forward, making a beeline for the pastries, which were piled high on the table next to a stack of newspapers.

Lance, sensing his presence, snapped his head up from his own newspaper as Keith walked by, “Good morning, Keith!” he chirped happily, grinning at him from ear to ear, “Have you seen the news!?” 

Keith glared at him. No, he hadn’t seen the fucking news! But he didn’t need to, he knew what they would be saying about him: ‘Daibazaal IS DOOMED’, ‘THE PRINCE FUCKED IT YET AGAIN’, “HOW IS _HE_ GOING TO BE OUR NEXT KING?’ Of course, Lance would be pleased about it. How could he not be? Keith wasn’t exactly pleasant to him. 

The other inhabitants at the table looked up at him in acknowledgement and Keith braced himself. This was it – the onslaught. He quickly grabbed a random pastry and shoved it into his mouth. At least that way he wouldn’t have to answer the idiotic question of, _“WHAT WHERE YOU THINKING?!”_ which always seemed to be what they chose to lead with.

What was he thinking? Gee, where to start… 

He rolled his eyes at the thought and chewed angrily on his pastry which turned out to be an apple danish - not his favourite but beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

He chewed and waited and then chewed some more. They were probably waiting for him to look at them so that he could take in their disappointed faces, as if he didn’t already have them tattooed on his inner eyelids. 

Eventually, Keith caved and reluctantly swallowed his bite, looking up to catch their expressions. What he wasn’t prepared for was Thace, Kolivan and Shiro simply smiling and nodding at him, like it was just any old morning and not the day after Keith had pretty much destroyed the monarchy. 

His jaw practically hit the floor as he watched them go back to reading their newspapers, taking pleasant sips of their coffee here and there in domesticated bliss, without saying one goddamn word to him. 

_What the fuck?_

Was he missing something? 

Where was the shouting? The disappointed head shakes? The ‘You’ve let Daibazaal down AGAIN!’ comments? 

Had he woken up in an alternative universe? Or was he still asleep and dreaming it all? 

“Um,” he voiced eloquently, following it with a cough to get rid of the phlegm that was lodged in his throat from not using his voice since yesterday, “What do they say?” He nodded to the stack of newspapers, addressing anyone but Lance. 

Unfortunately, as usual, Lance didn’t sense that Keith didn’t want to talk to him and practically fell out of his chair with excitement, blurting out, “The public is mad!” before anyone else even had the chance to look up. 

Keith grimaced. Fuck. Of course, the public was mad. How could they not be? Shiro and Co were probably just luring him into a false sense of security before they struck. Let him enjoy a tasty pastry and cup of Joe before handing him his ass. 

“Like really mad!” Lanced grinned, barely able to contain the volume of his voice as he vibrated in his seat, “They’re absolutely furio—“ 

“—OKAY!” Keith threw his half-eaten pastry down angrily, “I let everyone down, _again_. I get it!” 

Lance’s face fell comically, “What? No that’s—“ 

“—You don’t have to rub it in my face!” 

“Keith,” Shiro began, putting down his cup of coffee and folding his newspaper in half, as though he had expected the outburst, “They’re not mad at you, they’re mad at Diane.” 

Keith’s eyebrows almost flew off his head in shock _, “What!?”_ he all but shouted, as though he couldn’t quite believe the words that had just left his brother’s mouth. 

Kolivan looked up from his own paper, “They think her treatment of you was unfair. There are calls for her to be fired.” 

Keith furrowed his brow, thoroughly confused with the situation. He had to be dreaming, this was too good to be true, _“_ Oh,” he said dumbly. 

“Yes - and that’s not even the best part! They absolutely _love_ Lance!” Thace added with a sly smirk and Lance puffed out his chest proudly, beaming from ear to ear. Keith noticed he wasn’t wearing the ring and wondered if Shiro had taken back possession of it. He hoped so.

“Said he’s your knight in shining armour,” Kolivan quipped, looking at Keith for his reaction. 

_“What?!”_ Keith snapped, finally giving into temptation and grabbing the nearest newspaper to him. 

The front page featured the photo of Keith and Lance; the one that had been taken before the disastrous interview. Keith barely recognised himself. They were both grinning like a set of dickheads and to anyone who didn’t know, they actually looked like a proper couple… a couple in love. How Pidge and Matt had managed to capture that, he didn’t know. 

The photo was accompanied by the headline, “The DBC does the dirty on HRH”. He rolled his eyes and turned to the page with the main story, frantically reading the text as though his life depended on it. 

_Yesterday, His Royal Highness, Prince Keith Justin Kogane gave his first-ever televised interview and introduced his fiancé, Leandro Alexander McClain._

_The interview was broadcast on the DBC and was the highest viewed programme in the DBC’s history, breaking all previous records._

_Unfortunately, HRH did not manage to complete the interview, choosing to leave prematurely when asked whether or not King Zarkon of Naxzela would be attending the ceremony._

_The question was asked by DBC’s veteran host, Diane Donnelly, who has seemingly angered the nation with her direct and insensitive interview tactics._

_Yesterday’s broadcast garnered over one million complaints and viewers have taken to social media to voice their outrage, with the hashtag #FireDiane trending on Twitter._

_One user wrote: “What an awful human being! Diane is a disgrace to Daibazaal. #FireDiane”_

_Another user commented, “Hasn’t he been through enough? Stop dredging up the past and let him move on with his life! #FireDiane”_

_The Prince’s soon-to-be husband, Leandro (Lance) Alexander McClain, sprung to HRH’s defence, making sure to put Diane firmly in her place – a feat which has not gone unnoticed by the public with the hashtag #KingLance also trending._

_“What an absolute hero Lance is! Prince Keith is one lucky guy! #KingLance” - @BoM2022 wrote._

_“#KingLance putting Diane in her place… Crown him. Crown him now!” Another user wrote._

_Even the Altean Royal Family had something to say: “Everyone get a dictionary and look up ‘knight in shining armour’ if there’s not a picture of #KingLance I will be shook.” @RealPrincessAllura wrote._

_The future husband of His Royal Highness who was sporting the late Queen’s engagement ring, stated that they will not be inviting King Zarkon or Queen Honerva to their ceremony, confirming the suspicions that the palace has not forgotten nor forgiven past events._

_Many of the public still believe that the Naxzela Monarchy was responsible for the deaths of King Justin and Queen Krolia, despite King Zarkon being cleared of all charges._

Keith stopped reading at that point. He didn’t need to carry on, he’d read it all a thousand times before - King Zarkon cleared despite all the evidence, the shock of Shiro being an illegitimate child, a regent being put in place to rule Daibazaal until Keith reached the age of 21, the palace announcing Keith was gay. Blah, blah, blah! 

He snapped the newspaper shut, crumpling it in one of his hands and picked up his half-eaten apple danish in the other, taking another hasty bite. He knew that he should be happy or at the very least, relieved - no one was mad at him, he didn’t have to endure any lengthy lectures and he wouldn’t have to spend the day suffering through damage control plans with Shiro and Company. 

Yeah, he should have been happy, ecstatic even… but he wasn’t. 

He was angry. 

Angry at the fact that Lance had stepped in to save the day. Angry that the boy had run his mouth on shit he knew nothing about. Angry that he was now in debt to someone he couldn’t stand. 

When he had stormed out of the interview, Keith had just assumed that Lance had continued to be his angelic self. He assumed that Lance would have apologised for Keith’s behaviour, in the same way Shiro did every time he had a meltdown. He assumed that Lance would have wrapped up the interview with a cheery goodbye and an annoying grin. 

What he hadn’t assumed was that Lance would actually stand up to Diane. Would put her in her place and defend him. Would win over the public so god damn easily. 

He really should have taken the apple danish to go and left the room when he could feel himself getting mad. Go and cool down for a bit and think things through. But that had never been Keith’s style, and instead, he found himself shitting on the domestic bliss and spitting out with pure venom, “I don’t need _you_ to defend me,” glaring at Lance like he was the one who had killed his parents.

Lance blushed instantaneously as embarrassment consumed him, “I was only trying to—“ 

“—You don’t fucking know me so don’t act like you do.” 

The sound of cutlery, crockery and newspapers being put down abruptly filled the room, as Thace, Kolivan and Shiro all looked over at him with disdain. 

“Keith,” Shiro warned him in that tone he liked to whip out whenever Keith addressed Lance, like it was too early for this shit. Like he couldn’t believe they were doing this _again_. 

“No. He has no fucking idea what he’s talking about!” Keith directed at Shiro, before turning back to Lance and sneering, “I don’t need you to go running your mouth about shit you know nothing about. Do me a favour and stay out of my fucking business.” He threw the newspaper onto the table as hard as he could, as if to prove a point. 

Lance stood up abruptly, chair screeching as it was pushed back. He glared at Keith with a steely resolve, as though he was either going to actually say something to challenge him or beat the shit out of him. Keith perked up a bit, hoping it was the latter. He hadn’t had a good fight in months. 

They stared at each other for a prolonged period of time and just when Keith thought he had finally broken the omega, had finally pushed the right fucking button, Lance swallowed, anger seeming to dissipate and quietly said, “Excuse me,” to the rest of the table before heading for the exit. 

Keith couldn’t help the disappointment he felt at the sight of Lance’s retreating form. Not that he wanted to spend any amount of time with the boy but adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he wanted to chase the high. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Play the fucking victim, go on!” Keith goaded, desperately trying to hang onto the argument, “Knight in shining armour my ass!” 

He didn’t miss the collective sigh from the table nor the exasperated, “For fuck’s sake, Keith” that left his brother’s mouth.

* * *

“Honestly, I don’t know what to do anymore…everything I do seems to annoy him,” Lance sighed, taking another lick of the cake battered spoon. 

He was perched atop of one of the many marble counters in the palace kitchen, watching the head chef, Hunk Garrett preparing dinner.

Since his arrival, Lance had befriended as many of the palace staff as he could, desperate to create any kind of friendship. They all seemed so lovely and welcoming but none more so than Hunk. 

They had hit it off immediately and Lance found himself wandering down to the kitchen on most days, to hang out with him. It beat sitting alone in his room all day or bothering Shiro, who, whilst wanting to make sure Lance felt at home, was busy running the kingdom, not to mention planning the wedding, and didn’t need an attention-seeking omega up in his grill 24/7. But Hunk didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to perk up at Lance’s presence and always asked for Lance’s opinion on the dishes he was making, letting Lance sample anything and everything.

“Just keep trying,” Hunk smiled sympathetically, whisking the cake mix in a bowl, “He’s really nice when you get to know him.” 

“Okay, you’re like the sixth person to use that exact phrase… I feel like you have to say it. Like it’s in your contract or something.” 

“Well, I mean, they _do_ have cameras in here…probably microphones too, so?” 

Lance jumped off the counter lightning-fast and whipped his head around the room, “Shit, seriously?! Fuck! Are there cameras in _every_ room!?” 

“Relax!” Hunk chuckled, “I was teasing. Pidge controls the CCTV – there are no mics,” he said, as he poured the mixture into a cake tin, “Wait…I think she may have put one in Keith’s bedroom one time to fuck with him but she took it out when she heard him listening to porn.” 

Lance snorted loudly, “ _As if_ he watches porn. He has like one emotion – anger. Unless he’s angry _and_ horny…actually, yeah… I can see that.” 

There was a brief pause as they looked at each other before bursting out laughing together. 

That was another thing – he could trust Hunk. They may have only known each other for a few weeks but Lance had told Hunk everything, using him as a shoulder to cry on and seeking him out for any advice possible. 

“Maybe that’s his problem,” Lance shrugged, still giggling at the thought of an irate Keith jerking it furiously. Hunk cocked a questioning brow at him and Lance raised his in reply, “Maybe he just needs to get laid,” he confirmed with a smirk.

“Are you going to offer?” Hunk grinned at him, knowing full well that option was out of the question. Not only did Keith hate him, but there was also the added bonus of the ancient rules in place that forbade any hanky panky pre-marriage. Not that that was a concern at all – it would be a miracle if there was any hanky panky _post-marriage_ let alone pre. Lance shuddered thinking about the turkey baster again which was becoming more and more likely as the days wore on.

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Lance scoffed. “I’ll seduce him right after our romantic dinner for two on the verandah,” He said sarcastically, allowing his bitterness at the situation to fully shine through. 

Hunk grimaced sympathetically, “Did you at least ask him about which cake flavours he wanted?” 

When Lance had last visited Hunk, it had been just after the disastrous post-interview breakfast and he was wallowing in a pit of despair. He couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel and was fully prepared to admit defeat, throw in the towel and have a crisis meeting with Shiro and Company. Tell them that if things didn’t change, he would have to walk away. Sod the dynasty, sod the kingdom and sod Keith, the fucking arsehole that he was. 

But that was until Hunk had given him the pep talk to end all pep talks. Before he had pumped him up and got him excited. Before he had actually made Lance believe that things could only get better. That he could actually win Keith over. 

“He can’t get mad at cake!” Hunk had reasoned and Lance had nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. Who didn’t like cake!? Plus, it was their _wedding cake_ , meaning that they could have literally **ANYTHING** they wanted! Any flavour, any decoration and any size. Who wouldn’t be excited about that?! 

So Lance had plucked up the courage to approach the grumpy prince, thinking that maybe this was the day where Keith realised that Lance wasn’t out to ruin his life. After all...who _didn’t_ like cake?

Keith. Apparently. 

Lance nodded at Hunk nonchalantly, “Yeah – he said red velvet for the bottom layer, lemon for the middle and double chocolate fudge for the top, covered in an ivory fondant and finished with edible figures of the two of us on top.” 

Hunk raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Really?!” 

“No. He told me he didn’t give a shit and to fuck off.” 

Lance was still living through the embarrassment that had caused. Yes, okay. So Keith might have been playing tennis at the time when Lance had approached him but Lance wasn’t an idiot. He had waited for the break when Keith was wiping his brow with a towel and getting a drink of water. It’s not like he stormed onto the court at break-point shouting for Keith’s thoughts on marzipan. But even if he had caught Keith sitting in a room, staring at a wall for hours on end, he probably would have still gotten the same reaction from him.

The prick didn’t even have the courtesy to look up at him as he rudely dismissed him in front of several of his peers, including James Griffin, a high-born alpha who Lance was certain had a thing for the prince, if his reaction was anything to go by. He had smirked wickedly, taking great delight in watching Lance turn bright red with embarrassment and scampering away as fast as his long legs would carry him. Lance wished he hadn’t heard his comment of, “ _That’s him_?” to which Keith replied with, “Don’t even go there.” But he had. And he had never felt like more of a bellend in his life. 

God, he was an idiot. He was stupid to even dare to think that Keith might have treated him as a human being in front of other people. How dare he wish for common fucking decency? 

“Oh,” Hunk uttered, looking remorseful.

“So it’s dealer’s choice,” Lance threw a small smile Hunk’s way. 

“Well, I mean those options are great, Lance. There’ll be something for everyone,” Hunk nodded with a kind smile.

Sensing the mood take a sour turn, Lance quickly moved on, not wanting to revisit the pit of despair, “But seriously….are there cameras in _every_ room?” 

Hunk’s playful smile returned immediately and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “Why? What are you getting up to?” 

“No-no-no!” Lance flushed furiously, “I just…um…I just meant, like…you’re fucking with me again, aren’t you?” 

Hunk laughed deeply. 

“And here was me thinking I was giving Pidge a free cam show.” 

“Ew. Gross, Lance. Hey, I have something that will cheer you up!” Hunk announced, popping the cake mix into the oven and walking away from Lance to the other side of the kitchen. He bent down and made a beeline for something big. 

“Oh yeah!?” Lance grinned from ear to ear, straining to see whatever it was Hunk was holding. It wouldn’t be the first time the chef had cheered Lance up with food and Lance could only imagine what treats he had in store for him.

“Yeah,” Hunk said, standing back up, “How would you like to help me peel these?” 

Lance’s face fell into a static smile as he saw the big basket of potatoes Hunk was holding. He wasn’t one for manual labour, particularly when it involved getting his perfect hands wet and risking them pruning. 

“Um, actually…” He backed away slowly to the door, “Now that you mention it, I have a wedding…um…thing…yeah, I have to…do wedding things…sorry buddy.” 

“Oh yeah, like what?” 

“Um…” Lance uttered, scanning his brain for something, _anything_ to get out of the mundane task, “I have to ask Keith what flowers he wants,” He nodded confidently. 

It technically wasn’t a lie – he _did_ have to ask Keith that and also about their colour scheme but he had been putting it off ever since cake-flavour gate. 

“You’d seriously rather get told to fuck off again than help me peel some potatoes?” 

“Sorry, Hunk, it’s kind of urgent, they have to order them in and if I want junaberries from Altea – well, it’s not even the season for them and—“ 

“—Lance, it’s fine.” 

Lance smiled and opened the door, “I’ll catch you later buddy!” 

Hunk rolled his eyes fondly, “Bye Lance.” 

* * *

Keith was sat, lounging on a sofa and watching TV in one of the many sitting rooms the palace had, flicking through channel after channel when Lance found him. It wasn’t a big room but Keith preferred smaller spaces as there was more of a chance that he’d be left alone. Unfortunately, Lance, much like his brother, had a habit of finding him wherever he went, and no matter how many hints Keith dropped to Lance to kindly fuck off, the boy still shimmied into his personal space at every given opportunity.

“Hey,” Lance said cautiously, softly edging his way into the room, “May I sit?” He asked, nodding to the seat next to Keith.

Keith sighed loudly, his eyes never leaving the TV, “Why?”

“I need to ask you a few things...about the wedding,” Lance stammered nervously.

Keith closed his eyes slowly, as if mustering up the strength to continue with the conversation. He counted to five before opening them again, still staring ahead at the screen, “Do you have to?”

“Well, I mean...no but I would like to get your opinion on a few things if...um...if that’s okay?”

At that, Keith flicked his eyes from the TV to Lance dismissively, “I thought I told you, _I don’t care.”_

“About the cake, yes but this isn’t about the cake. It’s um...it’s about the flowers.”

Keith stared at him like he was an idiot, “Flowers?” he repeated in the most bored tone he could muster.

Lance blushed but nodded, determined.

Keith huffed out a cruel laugh “You think I give a shit about flowers?”

The blush deepened on Lance’s dark skin, “It’s your wedding too,” he said softly.

“As people keep reminding me,” Keith muttered, turning his attention back to the TV. There was some kind of quiz show playing and Keith did his best to look invested in it, hoping that Lance would get the message.

He didn’t.

“Also, I was thinking about the colour scheme,” Lance started, failing to let Keith’s obvious lack of enthusiasm phase him, “We could explore having violet undertones. Like a few purple flowers scattered here and there. They would definitely bring out the violet in your eyes.”

Keith blinked at the TV before slowly turning his head to Lance and looking at him in disbelief.

_The violet in his eyes!?_

Jesus fucking Christ, give him strength.

“In fact, we could just go all out and have a purple and gold theme, like in Tangled!” 

Lance still hadn’t sat down and Keith didn’t know how he wasn’t taking the blatant hint to get the fuck out of his sight. He turned his attention back to the TV again and tried his best to tune Lance out but it was nigh on impossible - the boy was so loud and animated all the goddamn time!

“Do you think we could get purple suits made? Or would they look too tacky? My other idea was like a dark blue and gold colour scheme with burgundy accents because that way, we could both wear navy suits with like golden pocket squares and ties...or should we have bowties? Wait, will we even be wearing suits or will we have to wear our formal royal garments? OH MY GOD! We could have red roses for the flowers and--”

“--I’m going to stop you there,” Keith finally said, pressing pause on the TV and cutting Lance off. He turned to face him for what he hoped would be the last time, “I’m going to say this one more time and I want you to listen, okay?”

Lance nodded obediently at him.

“I do not give one single fuck about the wedding. Not a fuck. Not one. Not the suits, not the cake, not the flowers. I have literally no fucks to give. Zero fucks. None. Do you understand?”

Lance nodded slowly, his face falling in defeat.

“D _o you_?” Keith prompted obnoxiously, wanting this to be the last time they spoke about the wedding, until the actual day when it would be unavoidable and even then he wanted it kept to a minimum.

“Yeah,” Lance nodded sadly, “I just thought--”

“--Well you thought wrong,” Keith cut him off again. He thought that after the tennis incident, Lance would back off but for some reason, he kept trying. It was like he was immune to rejection or something.

“Okay,” Lance said, pressing his lips into a small accepting smile. He turned and headed for the door, stopping just before he left. “It’s just,” he started again, turning back to look at Keith who had pressed play and was still pretending to give a shit about the _Price is Right_ , “I’ve dreamt about my wedding since I was a little boy and even though the situation is far from ideal, I still want it to be perfect.”

Keith stayed silent, his eyes burning a hole through the TV.

A perfect wedding? Yeah, right. The whole thing was a fucking mess. A sham. A complete mockery of marriage. How was it ever going to perfect?

Jesus, it was bad enough that it was even going ahead. To try and drag Keith through the planning process too was fucking torture. How did Lance not get that!?

“Haven’t you?” Lance asked him, snapping Keith out his thoughts.

“What?” he asked rudely, as if there was any other way he addressed Lance.

“Haven’t you ever thought about your dream wedding?”

Keith huffed out another cruel laugh, “Nope.” He said, popping the ‘p’ as obnoxiously as he could.

“Oh.”

The room fell silent and Keith stupidly thought that Lance might have already left. He chanced a glance at the door to see that Lance was looking at him with a sad expression like he pitied him or something.

So what if he had never dreamt about meeting the one and getting married? That was normal for a guy, right? Maybe if he hadn’t lost both of his parents at the tender age of thirteen and had the whole fucking world thrust upon his shoulders, he would have been able to fantasise about trivial shit like weddings and boyfriends and the future. But, oh wait, he had and so maybe his outlook on life wasn’t all that peachy but at least he was realistic - life was a fucking bitch and no amount of violet flowers or navy fucking suits or red velvet cake was going to change that. 

Keith turned his head back to the TV suddenly feeling very defensive, “Yeah, so like...just do what you want,” he spat, picking up the remote and resuming flicking through the channels. He suddenly felt self-conscious and needed to do something with his hands, “Pick whatever colour you want. Whatever cake you want. Whatever flowers you want. I really don’t care.”

There was another stretch of silence and Keith, expecting to see Lance still hovering in the doorway, turned his head, ready to give up and just yell at him to fuck off but Lance had already left.

* * *

It had been two weeks since the interview but to the people of Daibazaal it might as well have taken place the night before. Lance and Keith were still trending on Twitter - the imminent Royal Wedding gaining more and more traction as the days wore on. Keith couldn’t believe how excited people were about it. It was just a fucking wedding for god’s sake - it wasn’t that much of a big deal.

He had secretly hoped that he would just be able to rock up on the day and spend the rest of his time in ignorant bliss but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape it. The whole palace was on wedding alert. Even Thace, Kolivan and Shiro seemed as excited as the public were. 

“Ahhh, Keith, just the man,” Shiro smiled as Keith entered the library, “Come here, we need your opinion on something.” 

Keith strolled over, plopping himself down in the free armchair next to Shiro’s. He noticed that Kolivan and Thace were both sitting at the large mahogany table and seemed to be heavily invested in the books that they were reading.

“What are you doing?” he asked, as his brother took off his reading glasses. 

The usual pristine library he was accustomed to was barely recognisable. There were books scattered everywhere. Some open, most closed, some stacked in haphazard piles on the table, the rest thrown cruelly on the floor. Keith tried not to grimace over the treatment of them but it was hard not to - some of them had been in the family for generations and looked to be a blink away from disintegrating as it was.

“Titles,” Thace commented without looking up from the book he had his nose in.

Keith had no idea what that meant but nodded slowly anyway. 

“Lance’s title, more specifically,” Shiro elaborated, gesturing to the piles of books, which on closer inspection, all seemed to be on the subject of the royal family. 

Keith cocked a questioning brow, “Uh-huh.” 

“Yeah, you see, it’s…” Shiro scratched his head, “It’s tricky.” 

“How so?” 

“Well, um, we’re struggling to find out what title he should have when you get married.” 

It took all of Keith’s strength not to get up and leave. All he wanted was one fucking day when Lance’s name or the wedding wasn’t mentioned – was that too much to ask? Also - why did it matter what title he had? Keith didn’t give a shit. Call him the Queen of Sheba for all he cared. Was there really a need to crack out the textbooks? 

“It’s only happened twice before and there’s no real guidance on it,” Shiro continued, as if Keith knew what he was on about. 

“What do you mean?” Keith asked squinting at his brother for answers. 

“Well, in the history of the Royal family, there’s only ever been two gay marriages between a current reigning monarch and a royal, and they were each given different titles.” 

“Yes,” Kolivan nodded from the table, “Annoyingly, there are hundreds of gay marriages between royal family members who _aren’t_ in line for the throne but only two who reigned.” 

“So we don’t know what to call Lance,” Shiro concluded, putting his glasses back on and delicately turning the page in his book, “King Consort? Prince? Or just King. We know the public has been referring to him as ‘King Lance’ so maybe that’s the best option…what do you think?” 

Keith smirked wickedly. Were they really going to ask him this? Him? Of all people? 

No, but...Really?

God, it was too easy. 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind being called queen,” Keith quipped, not even trying to hide the malice in his tone.

“Don’t be an ass, Keith,” Shiro warned, not bothering to look up from the book that was perched on his knee. 

“What?” Keith replied innocently, “I mean, you can’t argue, he is quite feminine.” 

Shiro shook his head disapprovingly, “I’ll pretend you haven’t just said that.” 

“He got excited over flowers last week.” 

Shiro sighed heavily, “ _I_ like flowers.” 

“He said we should explore having violet undertones in our colour scheme as it would bring out my eyes.” 

“Well, how dare he give you a compliment!” 

“He ordered fucking face cream, perfume and a nail file with his credit card.” 

“That’s….,” Shiro relented and finally looked up from his book, scowling at Keith, “Why are you going through his credit card bills?” 

Keith shrugged flippantly, “I like to see what he’s spunking the royal money on.” 

“That’s…Keith. That’s private. If Lance wanted to buy a hula skirt and coconut tits, that’s his business.”

“Who says he hasn’t?” 

Shiro stared blankly at him before shaking his head once again and going back to his book. 

“And also,” Keith continued, lounging back in the armchair, “He cries all the time. Like every five minutes…on cue.” 

“He doesn’t cry every five min--- do you actually have any suggestions or are you just going to sit here and bad mouth him?” Shiro snapped, once again looking up from his book in annoyance. 

“Okay, okay! Jeez, I’m sorry!” Keith held up his hands in surrender before looking off to the side and thinking hard. Shiro watched him for a while until he was satisfied that he was taking things seriously. 

When he was certain enough time had passed, Keith clicked his fingers and declared, “I’ve got it!” getting everyone’s attention. 

“Yeah?” Shiro asked in earnest and Keith almost felt bad. 

Almost. 

“Lady Kogane--” 

“--Get out.” 

* * *

The annual royal charity polo match was being held at the palace this year. It was a huge affair which Keith liked to compare to the Olympics, only on a much smaller scale. Every year, a different Royal family would take turns in hosting the match and do their best to try and beat the previous host’s total of monies raised for a charity of their choosing. 

Keith had competed in the event since he was 15 and had never missed a match. That was, however, until last year, when the match was held in Naxzela and was hosted by King Zarkon and Queen Honerva. 

Keith had conveniently come down with a case of explosive diarrhoea and had sent his apologies in the form of a note explaining that he couldn’t get off the toilet. Shiro, who always took the high road, uncharacteristically added on his apologies too, informing the King and Queen that it must have been contagious, as he was also shitting up a storm.

Their absence from the match had been well documented and the public had come to their own conclusions as to why the brothers had missed the event - although it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

This year, however, was their turn and Keith was determined to not only put on a god-damn show but to also at least double the amount of money raised.

Tickets to the event had been sold at extortionate prices to the elite and an open bar meant that the drunker the pompous idiots got, the deeper they would stick their hands in their pockets. Plus, it didn’t hurt that people were dying to get a glimpse of the newly engaged couple (much to Keith’s chagrin) and anyone who was anyone was dying to attend. 

He had been delighted to learn that the event had sold out in minutes and couldn’t help the smug satisfaction of knowing that it would earn the palace some decent press coverage which would no doubt be seen in Naxzela. Hell, he was even prepared to pose with Lance for a picture if it meant that they ended up on the front page. Anything to get one up on Zarkon.

Their chosen charity was the Dabaizaal Children’s Hospital and Keith had already secured a few hefty donations from some large firms. His former enemy turned friend, James Griffin and his family, had kindly donated a _very_ generous sum of money, which already put them close to the total amount made in Naxzela one year ago, and that was before they took into account the other donations _and_ money from the ticket sales.

Keith didn’t really care how much they made, as long as it superseded what the Zarkon Dynasty had raised, that was fucking fine with him. He’d be laughing all the way to the bank.

But if anyone asked him, it was all about the charity and the children, of course.

Aside from his vendetta against the nation of Naxzela, Keith was actually really excited to play. He had a team that couldn’t lose, made up exclusively of alphas. Shiro, James, and Ryan Kinkade were to be his teammates and they had two elite players on standby, in case anything went wrong. Not that it would but Keith liked to be prepared. His red team was undefeated and he hoped that this year would be no different. He had seen the blue team sheet and it was, quite frankly, laughable - a mixture of alphas, betas and omegas - they didn’t stand a chance! It would be another victory for the red team and really, that’s what it was all about, wasn’t it? Winning.

But yeah...if anyone asked him, it was all about the kids and shit.

He suited up, grabbed his jet black horse, Gizmo, and was heading to the field to meet the rest of the red team to warm up when he bumped into Lance. 

Luckily for Keith, the guests had yet to arrive, meaning he didn’t actually have to acknowledge him. To be quite honest, he was fully prepared to ignore his fiancé until the actual event, when he would ultimately have to fake it for the crowds.

Would Lance touch his hand again? God, he hoped not. He was still scarred from the intimacy the interview had forced on him, he didn’t think he could take another hand caressing session. 

He was ready to sail past him to the field, pretend he hadn’t seen him and carry on living his best life when he saw the outfit Lance was wearing which made him stop dead in his tracks.

 **“** What are you doing?” He demanded rudely.

Lance seemed startled that Keith had actually addressed him. That or he hadn’t heard him approach.

“Well hello to you too, Keit---”

“--What _are_ you doing!?” Keith repeated with a sense of urgency.

Lance’s eyebrows etched together in confusion, “Like now? Or in general? Because I’m just standing here now but in general I guess I’m just trying to find my place in the world.” 

“Holy fuck,” Keith breathed, resisting the urge to stab him, “I mean what are you doing dressed _like that_ ?” He gestured to Lance’s outfit, more specifically, to Lance’s _red team_ outfit and unless he was a cheerleader, he could get to fuck.

Lance squinted harder and looked down at his garments and then back up at Keith with the same confused expression, “Oh… did you not know there was a polo match today? Crap… was I supposed to tell you?” 

“What the fu—Yes, I am aware there’s a polo match,” Keith gestured harshly to himself, to the outfit he was wearing which was the exact same outfit that Lance was currently sporting, not to mention the fucking horse he was holding, “I just want to know why _you_ are dressed as though _you_ are playing in the polo match.” 

Lance looked like he was trying to work out what the square root of Sweden was, “Because I’m _playing_ in the polo match?” He replied unsurely. 

Keith’s eyes widened, “Like fuck you are.” 

“Excuse me?” Lance said, clearly still confused at the exchange.

“You can’t play.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” 

“Because why?” 

“Because-I-said-so.” 

Lance blinked a couple of times, slowly registering what Keith was getting at and threw him a snarky smile, “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were the captain… _oh_ _wait_ , you’re not the captain, Shiro is.”

Shiro. 

Of course, it had been Shiro. The fucking traitor. He had probably told Lance that there was a spot on the team and that he would be fucking delighted if he could play. He probably wouldn’t have told Keith until the starting whistle, when there would be fuck all Keith could do to stop it from happening. Well, the joke was on him! He had thwarted his brother’s plans. He could stop it from happening and believe him, he was going to.

“I don’t care what Shiro has told you, you’re not playing,” he said stubbornly.

Lance looked totally affronted, “Why? Give me one good reason.” 

“Because the team is made up of alphas and...and…” Keith stumbled, not knowing quite how to phrase what he was getting at without looking like a bigoted idiot.

Lance raised his eyebrows in a challenge, “And what?” 

“Well, you…you’re…” Keith stumbled again, blushing lightly. 

“An omega?” 

“Yeah.” 

Lance huffed out a disbelieving laugh, “Yeah. I _am_ an omega. But you know what I’m not? Disabled,” he said, yanking on his helmet roughly. 

“You’re not playing!” Keith all but shouted petulantly, jostling Gizmo harshly causing the horse to huff out an irritating snort, “We have like 6 players as it is. We don’t need another sub.” 

As if on cue, Shiro appeared. It was like he had a built-in alarm that went off anytime Lance was slightly inconvenienced. 

“What’s the problem,” he asked, strolling over with his own horse, a white stallion in tow and scowling at Keith as though he had already made up his mind of who was to blame in the situation. Keith rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

“Oh nothing,” Lance smiled sourly, “It’s just Keith doesn’t want me, _an omega_ , to play on the red team.” 

The scowl on Shiro’s face deepened. It was one thing for Keith to dislike Lance for purely existing, it was another thing entirely to dislike him because of his status.

“Is that true, Keith?” Shiro demanded. 

The other players from the red team had started to appear and were pretending to tend to their horses but were clearly watching the exchange. Keith had half a mind to start handing out popcorn - why was there always an audience present for his meltdowns?

Not wanting people to see him lose his shit, Keith licked his lips and said, as calmly as he could, “It’s just that polo is quite a rough game,” hoping that Shiro would read between the lines.

Because sat between the lines was the fact that Lance was a fucking fragile omega who wouldn’t be able to handle it. For fuck’s sake, Keith had seen him cry over a centrepiece, imagine if he got knocked off his horse or something? And god forbid someone from the blue team heckled him. Keith would put money on him fleeing the field in hysterics. Not to mention the fact that alphas were just better at everything - it was fucking science. You can't argue with science! Didn’t Shiro want to win?! God, why did everyone have to be so fucking PC all the time? 

Shiro didn’t miss a beat, “I think Lance can handle it. He did play for the Royal Altean Team, after all,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and making his biceps stand out, as if to intimidate Keith. But really, what was he going to do? Throwdown over a polo match. When there were horses mincing about? Get real.

Keith glanced to the other players who were still gawking at the exchange before resuming his stare off with Shiro, “Well I just don’t think it’s fair to…Lance. That’s all.” 

“I think Lance knows what’s best for him, _Keith_.” 

“Well, _I_ am not comfortable with him playing, _Shiro_.” 

"Well, it's not up to y _ou_ , _Keith_."

"Well, I am only looking out for him, _Shiro."_

"Well, I--

_“--How noble!”_

The sound of a familiar deep but velvety voice filled the area and Keith whipped his head around so fast, he was surprised it didn’t roll right off. 

Prince Lotor, son of King Zarkon and Queen Honerva, was sauntering over to them, wearing the blue team’s kit. His luscious blonde locks were cascading behind him and he held his helmet under his arm, like the pretentious prick he was. He stopped next to Lance, facing Keith and Shiro. 

“It’s lovely to see you again, Prince Shiro, Prince Keith,” Lotor said, bowing deeply. 

Keith was like a deer in headlights, looking at Lotor like he was some kind of shit mirage. It was a miracle he didn’t let out a threatening growl. 

Somehow, Shiro managed to hold it together. He nodded with an air of forced politeness and said, “Lotor,” in acknowledgement.

“Who invited you?” Keith blurted out abruptly. His mouth hadn’t gotten the memo from his brain that it really shouldn’t speak and he said the first thing that came to him. Actually, the first thing that came to him was, ‘get the fuck out’ but even he wasn’t that much of an idiot to speak such things.

“Keith,” Shiro scolded immediately.

“Always a warm welcome, I see, Your Highness,” Lotor smirked, brushing off the question easily.

“I see you are playing for the blue team, this year, Lotor,” Shiro stated awkwardly, as if they all didn’t already know. As if the blue team kit that he was sporting or the helmet under his arm wasn’t a massive fucking giveaway.

Keith stifled a snort - he hardly ever saw his brother falter with social interactions but when it happened, it was like a car crash. You couldn’t look away. 

“Indeed I am and I couldn’t help but overhear that the Prince does not want his fiancé on his team. So thoughtful, wanting to protect his future beau,” Lotor said with a genuineness that would fool anyone who didn’t actually know him. He turned to Lance and put a hand over his heart, “Why Lance, you are even more handsome in real life than your pictures do you justice,” he cooed, taking Lance’s hand in his own and bringing it to his lips to kiss.

Lance turned beet red and Keith stifled another growl that was aching to escape the back of his throat.

“I would be delighted to have you join _my_ team. We only have four players as it is and the Lady Romelle is not feeling her best,” Lotor continued, addressing Lance, like he was the only person on the field, “Plus, I have seen you play and you are a magnificent player. Any team would be lucky to have you.” 

If Keith thought Lance was blushing before, he had been wrong... dead wrong. Lance practically turned crimson at the praise and looked to be about two breaths away from death. It seemed to be a bit of an overreaction but then again…

_Oh._

A sudden realisation came to Keith.

Did Lance...did Lance _like_ Lotor? 

_Like that_?

No… surely not…

Like, not that Keith gave a shit or anything but Lotor was the fucking enemy… 

Also, Lance was engaged to _him_ and if he did like him _like that_ ….well, that was just fucking rude. 

“Your team?” Keith demanded, suddenly feeling angry for a whole host of other reasons that he couldn’t pinpoint.

“Yes,” Lotor smiled, finally tearing his eyes away from Lance and looking over at Keith, “I am the captain of the blue team, this year.” He flashed his pearly whites at Keith, giving him his perfect signature smile. Keith scowled in reply. 

Captain of the blue team?

Well, wasn’t that just fan-fucking-tastic.

“But what about Princess Allura?” Shiro questioned lightly, clearly trying to keep the peace. 

Princess Allura of Altea was always the captain of the blue team and although she was a great player, she usually had a mixed ability team, meaning she was no match against Keith and his pack of alphas.

“Oh, the poor devil has come down with a case of the flu. She asked me to step in for her and, of course, I obliged.” Lotor replied with a flick of his hair and Keith swore he actually saw Lance swoon. “I'm surprised she didn't tell you? Poor thing must have forgotten - she was practically delirious when I left Altea. Goodness me, would you look at the time? And here's me waffling on! We best start warming up.” Lotor said, turning to face Lance, “Lance, are you ready?” 

Lance nodded shyly, “Um...” He voiced, turning to look at Keith, “Keith?” He said nervously, as though he was looking for Keith’s blessing to swan off with his mortal enemy.

_Yeah, sure, go right ahead! Don’t worry about it! It’s not like his parents murdered my parents or anything._

“Whatever,” Keith spat, glaring at Lance and trying to wordlessly communicate every bitter thought that was currently jogging through his mind.

_No. It's not okay._

_No. I don't want you to be on his team._

_No. Just fucking no._

“He will be in good hands, I promise,” Lotor goaded with a wink before taking Lance’s hand in his and leading him to the opposite end of the field where the blue team was warming up. Keith was surprised Lance didn’t combust from the contact.

He didn’t realise he was glaring after the pair of them until Shiro’s voice sounded in his ear.

“Happy?” his brother asked with a raise of his eyebrows and an infuriating, ‘don’t tell me I didn’t warn you’ look.

Keith yanked his helmet on his head as hard as he could, hoping to knock himself out or at least give himself a concussion in the process, “Oh, fuck off, Shiro.”

* * *

So the thing about polo matches is, it’s really anyone’s game. 

Sometimes your horse is having an off day and nothing you do can rectify it.

Or sometimes your players just can’t seem to get their shit together and you become an uncoordinated mess of limbs, hooves and mallets.

And sometimes, you really underestimate your omegan fiancé’s ability to play polo and have to endure him beating you to a pulp in front of a significantly large crowd of elite pompous twats.

Okay so, yes. Lance could play polo...who knew?

Not Keith, that’s for sure.

And when Keith says ‘could play’, Lance might as well have been a fucking centaur with the way he bounded up and down the field scoring goal after goal.

The end result had been mortifying and Keith had wasted no time in dragging his sorry ass off the field, immediately heading to the stables to put his horse away.

Call him a sore loser but he was beyond embarrassed. It was bad enough Lance, an omega, had outplayed him. The fact that he happened to be on Lotor’s team while doing so, was another story altogether.

He took his time putting Gizmo away, hoping that if he took long enough, he might skip the presentation of the Royal Cup altogether. However, deep down, he knew that wasn’t a possibility - they wouldn’t start without him because of who he was. 

God, why did he have to be the next in line for the throne? Why couldn’t he have just been an earl or something? Or better yet, why did he have to be a royal at all? Life would be so much simpler if he was normal. If he was just like everyone else on the god-forsaken planet. But noooo, he had to be born a future king, didn’t he?

He sighed heavily and practically dragged his feet back out to the field, all the while praying for a very short presentation.

The fact that they had smashed the previous year’s total of money raised didn’t register to Keith at all. All he could think about was what the headline would be: ‘Prince Lotor dominates Daibazaal’, accompanied with a picture of the prick holding up the trophy with Keith’s fucking fiancé on his arm.

God, he could just see it now. He would probably get a commiseration gift from King Zarkon and Queen Honerva, mocking him senseless. 

It didn’t matter to him that the children’s hospital was going to benefit significantly from the hefty donation or that countless children’s lives would be saved as a result of the equipment they would be able to purchase.

Fuck the kids, this was personal.

The presentation was just as bad as he had imagined, if not worse. He had to endure watching Lance and Lotor lifting up the cup which was sporting blue ribbons, and grinning at the elated crowd. They even celebrated with champagne - Lotor shook the bottle vigorously and took great delight in soaking Lance and the rest of his team with the bubbles. Not that Keith could complain at all. That’s how the red team usually celebrated but now that the shoe was on the other foot and he had witnessed it first hand, he found it somewhat tasteless and tacky and not at all humble.

Afterwards, Keith had to grin and bear it with Shiro for the cameras, smiling politely and giving them his, “What a fantastic game. We are thrilled that we managed to raise so much money for the Daibazaal Children’s Hosptial,” speech, whilst secretly wanting to kill himself.

When all was said and done he felt like complete shit and was ready to go and retreat to his bedroom to lick his wounds but he knew Shiro would kill him if he didn’t follow protocol.

So he reluctantly stood in line next to his brother and Lance, shaking hands and thanking the elite guests and players for attending. Lotor waited until the end and Keith couldn’t help but think he had done so on purpose.

“Until we meet again, Lance,” Lotor delivered, voice as soft as velvet as he caressed Lance’s hand lovingly, bringing it to his lips and leaving a delicate kiss on the skin, just as he had done prior to the game.

Keith watched as Lance turned scarlet once again, his eyes as wide as two porcelain saucers. He was clearly flustered and Keith would put money on him being smitten with the Naxzela Prince - he just didn’t know why it bothered him so much.

“Your Highness,” Lotor turned to Keith and nodded with a barely-there smirk resting heavily on his lips, before finally shaking Shiro’s hand and thanking him for inviting him ( _he hadn’t)._ Then he floated away as gracefully as ever and it took every fibre in Keith’s being not to chase after him and drop kick him in the back of the head.

Shiro smiled sympathetically at Keith and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, as if trying to communicate that he knew exactly how Keith was feeling. Then he too, sauntered off with Kolivan, leaving Lance and Keith alone together. 

The sun was setting quickly, leaving a deep orange hue in its wake which washed over the grounds beautifully. It was absolutely stunning and in every other sense, would have made for an ideal romantic moment but Keith wasn’t about to let that happen.

He should have left immediately after Shiro but he didn’t. He couldn’t seem to shake off the events that had just transpired and was still absolutely raging with how things had turned out. He needed an outlet to direct his anger at, and since Lotor had already vacated the scene, Lance was his next best target. 

Lance was still clutching the trophy which Lotor had gifted to him, telling him he could keep it at the palace. Keith suspected he had only done so, so that the Koganes would have a constant reminder of a day they would rather forget. Lance was gazing at it fondly as if he was cradling a newborn baby and not a slab of sterling silver.

“Jesus Christ, you’re disgusting,” Keith remarked in the nastiest voice he could muster.

The dreamy-smitten look that had been resting on Lance’s face soon slid off and was replaced with a look of utter confusion as he looked up at Keith, “Wh-what?” he queried, looking totally bewildered.

“You practically threw yourself at him,” Keith spat, crossing his arms over his chest angrily.

Lance smiled uncomfortably, clearly embarrassed at being called out, “N-no, I didn’t,” he stammered, as a light blush dusted his cheeks. He was probably mortified that Keith had actually noticed how enamoured he was with Lotor, not that it was hard - a fucking blind person would have been able to see it.

Keith huffed out a sarcastic laugh in reply, “Whatever.”

“You’re the one who didn’t want me on your team!” Lance scowled.

“Yeah, with good reason.”

“What are you talking about?! We kicked your ass!”

“Hardly,” Keith scoffed petulantly, knowing full well that Lance was deadly accurate in his description.

“Oh really? Because the scoreline says differently. The trophy says differently,” Lance declared, thrusting the cup at Keith as though he needed reminding that he had lost.

Keith shrugged dismissively, “It’s not like _you_ helped.”

“Bullshit.”

“What? So you passed Lotor the ball a few times? Big deal. He practically carried you.” Keith knew it was a lie but he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge Lance’s polo-playing abilities. He would rather die than admit that Lance had outplayed him.

“Oh, yeah?” Lance goaded, clearly gaining confidence in the exchange, “Well _he_ said that _I_ was the MVP.”

Keith laughed as nastily as he could, “MVP my ass! He was clearly flirting with you.”

“And?” Lance shrugged daringly and Keith was taken aback. He wasn’t used to sassy Lance. He was used to emotional Lance who teared up after a few quips and excused himself at the slightest hint of confrontation. This Lance was throwing him off his game.

“And you think that’s okay?” He asked spitefully.

Lance shrugged again, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Um...I don’t know because you’re engaged to someone else!?”

“Oh, you mean the person who _didn’t_ want me on their team?”

Keith ignored the remark. It wasn’t about that. Even if Keith didn't want him on his team, that didn't give him permission to swan off and join Lotor's! No. It was about principles. It was about morals. Goddammit, it was about having enough integrity to not flirt with your fiancé’s mortal fucking enemy.

“So you think it’s fine to flirt with other people. Good to know,” he said childishly. 

It wasn’t like he and Lance had established any rules to their ‘relationship’ or anything but even Keith knew that you didn’t blatantly flirt with someone else right in front of your ‘partner’. And certainly not with your partner’s sworn enemy. Not that he cared what Lance did or anything because he most certainly _did not_. Lance could do what he wanted. 

Keith was upset because of who Lance had chosen to flirt with, that’s all.

“I was _not_ flirting!” Lance protested with a stomp of his foot.

Keith narrowed his eyes, “Oh, you so were.”

“No I wasn’t, he was just...he asked me to be on his team and I asked you for your permission and--”

“--Like fuck, you did!”

“YES I DID!” Lance shouted exasperatedly with another wave of his arms.

Keith had to duck out of the way as the movement caused the lid of the cup to come flying off and directly at him. It fell to the floor with a loud clang.

“Whatever,” he sneered and looked off to the side. The sun had completely set and the outdoor lights which were dotted around the grounds had begun to turn on, leaving them basking in a fluorescent glow.

Lance cocked his head at him, “What...Are you like, jealous or something?” 

Keith let out another harsh laugh, “Yeah, right.”

“You are. You are jealous.”

“Um, no.”

“You know, I can see why you would be," Lance taunted, "I mean he is super nice and _super_ good looking. He has manners and was really kind to me and--”

“--WELL, WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING MARRY _HIM!_!” Keith bellowed, finally succumbing to the full force of his anger.

He couldn’t help it. It was bad enough that Lotor had even been there today but to see him winning the competition and then parading Lance around like some fucking prize, had wounded Keith beyond words.

Lance mumbled something under his breath and Keith, who was still raging, jumped on it immediately, “What was that? I didn’t quite catch that?!” 

Lance shook his head and looked off into the distance, “Nothing.”

“No go on, what did you say?”

Lance sighed but remained silent which only added to Keith’s fury.

“Fucking share with the group, Lance. What did you say? Huh? What did you say? It was clearly something important or else you wouldn’t have said it. So go on, what was it? You wanted me to hear it, didn’t you? So, go on, what did you say? What did you fucking say--”

“--I SAID I WOULD IF I COULD!” Lance snapped turning to look at Keith coldly.

“Like you’d have a chance,” Keith sneered, looking Lance up and down as though he was a piece of shit - totally worthless.

Lance huffed out a cruel laugh of his own, his eyes never leaving Keith’s, “Actually, I do.”

Keith faltered slightly and tried to conceal his shock at Lance’s boldness, “Like fuck you do.”

“Oh, you don’t believe me?” Lance asked with a spiteful raise of his eyebrows, “I had the chance, believe me. But I got forced to choose _you_ out of pity.”

Keith didn’t miss how Lance returned his look from before. He looked Keith up and down as though he was something he had just stepped in, whilst Keith just stood there, still trying to process what Lance had just said.

“W-what?”

“Yeah, go and ask Shiro, or Thace or Kolivan. Ask them to tell you how they begged my parents to give you a chance. How they threw money at us, wined and dined us, put us up in the best fucking suite. How scared they looked when Coran told them about my other suitor. How they almost had a heart attack when they found out it was Prince Lotor and that I was actually considering it.”

Keith stared dumbly at Lance, taking in his words. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, doing his best impression of a goldfish.

“Oh…? Shiro didn’t tell you that, did he?” Lance smirked humourlessly, “If I had it my way, I wouldn’t even be here,” he paused and waited for Keith’s retort but Keith was still at a loss for words. Lance’s face fell slightly as though he regretted being so honest but he took advantage of Keith’s silence to end the argument, “Goodnight,” he said bitterly, before bending down to retrieve the lid from his cup and walking back up to the palace, leaving Keith alone in the dark.

* * *

“LOTOR!? FUCKING LOTOR!?” Keith bellowed. He had stormed into Shiro's office without any warning, almost taking the doors off their hinges in the process. Shiro snapped his head up in worry.

He looked to be in the middle of reading important documents but dropped them immediately and jumped up out of his seat, walking towards Keith with his hands up in surrender, as if trying to calm him down, “Hey, hey, hey - I, I didn’t know he would be there--”

“--Not the fucking polo match...LANCE!” Keith continued to shout. He was breathing heavily and could feel the rage coursing through his bloodstream. He wanted to hit something or someone.

“Keith, what are you talking about--”

“--Don’t act fucking dumb, Shiro! I know about Lance and Lotor.”

Shiro etched his brows together in confusion, “What about Lance and Lotor?”

“How about the fact that Lance was going to choose that fucking prick over me!!!” Keith shouted again, glaring at his brother with everything he had.

Shiro’s face fell into realisation and he slowly lowered his hands, “Oh.” 

“Yeah. OH!” Keith repeated harshly.

Shiro calmly walked over to him and gently put his hands on Keith’s shoulders. He led him to the chair opposite his desk and lightly pushed him down so that Keith flopped into the seat. Then he went back to sit in his own chair, facing him.

He was silent for a while, watching Keith, as if assessing his mood or thinking through what to say. Keith couldn’t wait to hear what excuse he came up with, this time.

“Okay,” he said after a prolonged pause, “It is true that Lotor was interested in Lance, yes--”

“--Why didn’t you tell me?!” Keith cut him off angrily, “I feel like a fucking idiot.”

“Why?”

“ _Why!?_ ” Keith asked in disbelief. Was he really asking why? Where the fuck did Keith start? 

Should he start with the fact that Shiro and company had casually paid his fiancé off just to get him to walk down the aisle? Or the fact that his fiancé actually wanted to choose his mortal enemy over him? Ooo and let’s not forget the star prize in all of this - the fact that they had kept it from Keith this whole fucking time.

Hmmmm, decisions, decisions!

“Did you really _beg_ Lance to choose me?” He finally asked, praying that it wasn’t true.

Shiro paused and licked his lips as though he was trying to work out how to respond. Keith took it as an admission of guilt.

“Keith, we--”

“--This is so fucking embarrassing,” Keith groaned, squirming in his seat. He put his head in his hands in despair.

“Look, we didn’t have a choice.”

Keith tore his hands away from his face and flailed his arms dramatically, “Yes you did! You didn’t have to beg! For all I care he could have chosen Lotor!”

Shiro rolled his eyes, “Yeah, okay and where would that have left you? Engaged to a 92-year-old?!”

“I don’t fucking give a shit!”

Shiro cocked a brow at him “Oh, really?” 

Deep down, Keith knew that Lance had been his only viable option and what his brother had done for him was for the best. But at that moment, he couldn’t think about that because all he could think about was… 

“Fucking, Lotor.”

“Keith, why do you think Lotor would be interested in Lance.”

“I dunno,” Keith shrugged flippantly, “Maybe he likes whiney omegas?”

Shiro rolled his eyes, “Keith, seriously. Think about it. Why, would Lotor be interested in Lance, one of only two royal gay omegan males.”

Keith thought hard. It didn’t make any sense really. Lotor could have anyone he wanted. He was always voted number one in those stupid polls the teen-magazines ran, and as far as Keith knew, he only dated models… _female_ models, exclusively, “I don’t know... I always thought he was straight.”

“Exactly,” Shiro prompted, staring at Keith with raised eyebrows.

It suddenly hit Keith like a freight train and his eyes widened comically, “To keep me off the throne?” He offered and Shiro nodded slowly.

“Bingo.”

“Ohhhhhhh.”

Well...that made sense. It was no secret that Lotor was the next in line for the Daibazaal throne after Keith. The only thing in his way was.. well, Keith. 

If Keith wasn’t married to an omega by the age of twenty-one, he would have to forfeit the throne to Lotor. If Keith didn’t produce any heirs in his lifetime, the throne would be given to the next in line, Lotor. And if he suddenly died in mysterious circumstances before he could even walk down the aisle, the throne would be forfeited to Lotor.

Well...Fuck.

“So yes, we did beg Lance and his parents to choose you. But you know what? Had you not had your little hissy fit, we wouldn’t have had to.”

Keith dipped his head in embarrassment remembering his first meeting with Lance and his parents. Okay, so maybe he was partially to blame for Lance’s preference of choosing Lotor over himself but had they just fucking told him all of this in the first place, he might have reacted differently!

“Okay,” he nodded his head in defeat. He was no longer angry at the situation but couldn’t help feeling a little bit scared, “Do you think we should up our security?” He voiced flippantly, trying not to convey how he was really feeling.

Because the more Keith thought about things, the more he realised just how serious the situation really was, and he might as well have a big fat red target on his back. 

The Naxzela Royal Family were known to not play fair. They had already started a war and murdered his parents to try and gain control over Daibazaal, he wouldn’t put it past them to come after him too, especially if he was the only one left in their way. Plus, what about Lance? Take him out of the equation and Keith was fucked. What would he do then? Commit to marrying a 92-year-old man or worse, pretend he’s suddenly bisexual and wouldn’t mind trying vagina.

Keith shuddered harshly at the thought. Christ, could you imagine?!

“Keith, what do you think I spend all my time doing?” Shiro gestured to his desk which was littered with paper, “Your safety is my number one priority. Haven’t you noticed an increase in staff?”

Keith frowned, “You mean the housekeepers?”

“Well, they’re not exactly housekeepers,” Shiro smirked wickedly, “But it’s good to know that you haven’t noticed - it means they’re working.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“They’re secret servicemen and women, Keith, posing as housekeepers, waiting staff, drivers, gardeners, maintenance staff. You name it, they’re doing it. They’re all highly trained, of course, and are fully equipped to take down anyone who threatens yours or Lance’s life.”

“Fully equipped?”

“Yes, Keith.”

“As in…?”

“Guns,” Shiro nodded in confirmation.

Keith raised his eyebrows, “Good to know.”

* * *

A week after the polo match, Keith was heading to the gym to train. He was in an unusually good mood for once. No one had spoken to him about the wedding all week and he could not have been happier. 

As he approached the door, he heard voices coming from the inside and assumed that Kolivan and Shiro were sparring as they usually did three times a week. It used to be twice a week but ever since Keith had managed to pin Shiro that one time and call him an old-timer, his brother had upped his sessions. He had tried to laugh off at the time but Keith knew that it had got to him because ever since that fateful day, he had trained harder and longer, _and_ he had downloaded a fancy training app on his phone which tracked his progress - all because his little brother had finally managed to get the better of him.

Keith walked in and looked over to where the sounds of the voices were coming from. Just like he thought, Shiro was there in his usual blank tank top and track pants, standing on the mats, facing his opponent, ready for their next tussle. Keith’s eyes flicked over to the opposite side, expecting to see Kolivan in matching sports gear. However, instead of Kolivan, stood a grinning Lance in a tight white tank top and navy yoga pants that were spray-painted on his legs.

They were both sweaty, having clearly been at whatever it was they were doing for a while. Keith scowled, his good mood suddenly souring at the sight.

“You ready?” Shiro asked, raising his eyebrows in a challenge. He hadn’t acknowledged Keith’s presence at all. In fact, Keith didn’t think either of them had noticed he was even in the room. Not that he cared or anything.

“I was born ready,” Lance quipped with a grin.

“Okay!” Shiro smiled in amusement, cracking his knuckles teasingly, “Three, two, one, go!”

They began to wrestle with each other. Compared to Shiro, Lance was a twig and if Shiro had been putting even 5% of effort into the match, he could have snapped him in half if he wanted to. Instead, Keith watched as Shiro took it easy on Lance, allowing the boy to get free from his holds and even humouring him in falling to the mat when Lance swiped his legs from under him.

Lance straddled him and pinned his shoulders to the mat, “I think you’ll find that’s game,” he smirked and Shiro giggled - actually giggled. Keith couldn’t remember the last time his brother had made such a noise.

He doesn’t know why but the sight made his stomach turn with an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Enjoying the show?” 

The sound of Thace’s voice in his ear made him jump about a foot in the air.

“What?! No… I wasn’t...I was just…” He spluttered, his face beet red, as he tried to calm his racing heart and regain his composure.

Thace smirked wickedly and turned his head to where Shiro and Lance were getting to their feet, still grinning, “Your services are required, Your Highness,” he called out to Shiro who nodded before reaching for his things.

“Okay,” Shiro replied, wiping his brow with his towel, “Lance has finished kicking my ass anyway.”

Keith snorted obnoxiously at the lie. He had seen Shiro take on guys twice his size. Plus, he was an Alpha prime - no omega would have been able to get near him, least of all Lance who looked like he would blow away in a gust of wind. Why Shiro and Company felt the need to placate Lance just because he was an omega was beyond Keith.

Shiro strolled over to where Thace and Keith were standing and gave Keith a knowing look before putting his hand firmly on his shoulder and growling, “Play nice.” Then he swung the towel around his neck and followed Thace out of the room.

Keith watched him walk away, turning his attention back to Lance when he was confident they were alone. There was the issue of the ‘housekeeper’ lurking just outside the room in the hallway but Keith was positive that they wouldn’t be disturbed.

He didn’t know how he hadn’t realised before just how fake the ‘extra-staff’ were. Said ‘housekeeper’ was currently trying to vacuum some curtains, glancing into the room every now and then, as if to make sure a ninja hadn’t descended from the ceiling and slit Keith’s throat. 

“I thought I told you, you weren’t allowed in my gym,” Keith called out to Lance, completely ignoring Shiro’s warning.

He didn’t miss Lance, rolling his eyes in annoyance, “Nice to see you too, Keith,” he replied sarcastically. He was in the middle of stretching his arms, pulling one across his chest and using his other arm to hold it in place.

“What the hell are you even doing?” Keith demanded, annoyed that Lance didn’t seem to be intimidated by his mere presence anymore. Ever since their run-in after the polo-match, something had changed in Lance and he seemed to swan about with more confidence than ever before. Although, he hadn’t tried to approach Keith about the wedding again. In fact, he hadn’t bothered him at all, apart from his usual pleasantries at mealtimes, he had left Keith alone.

“Training,” he said, as though it was obvious.

Keith threw him a bemused smile, “Training?” 

“Uhuh,” Lanced voiced patting his toned stomach, “I gotta keep in shape.” 

“I didn’t realise the omegan marathon was coming up," Keith smirked viciously. 

Lance ignored the comment and gestured his head towards the mat, “So you wanna go?” he asked, bending down to pick up his water bottle. 

Keith looked at him in disbelief and huffed out a laugh, “You and me?” 

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” Lance shrugged and took a swig of his water.

Keith looked him up and down and shook his head lightly, “I don’t think so.” 

“What? Don’t think you’d be up to it?” Lance teased, taking another swig from his bottle. 

Keith raised his eyebrows, “Yeah, right.” 

“Then, let’s go,” Lance said, gesturing to the mat again.

“Yeahhhhhh,” Keith drew out mockingly, “I think I’ll pass.” 

“You’re quite prejudiced against omegas, aren’t you?” 

“What?” Keith scowled instantly, “No.” 

Lance shrugged, “It’s fine. Kinda wish I’d known you were an omephobe before I agreed to this,” he gestured between them, “But you can’t win them all--” 

“--I’m not an omephobe,” Keith protested.

“Sure you’re not,” Lance nodded sarcastically. He went to walk past but Keith put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. 

“Hey. I’m _not_.” 

Lance huffed out a humourless laugh, “You avoid me like the plague. You barely speak to me and hardly ever look at me, and even when you do, you act repulsed. You wouldn’t let me join your polo team, even though I’ve played polo many, _many_ times before, and now you’re refusing to spar with me? But the fact that I’m an omega has absolutely nothing to do with it? Please, Keith. I’ve spent my life dealing with jerks like you.” 

Keith scowled deeply, “You don’t know anything about me.” 

“I know that you’re a jerk.” 

“Fuck you.” 

Lance laughed wickedly, “I think we both know, that’s _never_ going to happen.” 

It was the closest thing Lance had said to acknowledge that they were actually a ‘couple’. Keith hadn’t let himself think of anything beyond the act of saying ‘I do’ and he had certainly not let himself think about the wedding night or the expectations that it brought. That was a problem for wedding-day Keith.

He threw his hands up in surrender, “Fine! You wanna go? Don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you.”

“Alright!” Lance grinned, “Now, it’s a party.” 

They walked over to the mats and Keith kicked his shoes off and removed his hoodie before stepping onto the mat and facing Lance. 

“Last chance to back out,” he said, cracking each of his knuckles obnoxiously, trying to intimidate Lance who was looking at him in amusement. 

“And miss the chance of kicking the ass of an omephobic dick?” 

“I told you I’m not an omephobe!” 

“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Keith, buddy, I told you, it’s _not_ going to happen,” Lance cackled, as Keith’s anger quickly got the better of him and he lunged forward, hoping to tackle Lance to the ground. 

What Keith wasn’t prepared for was how agile Lance was. He dodged Keith’s attack with ease, stepping out of the way and forcing Keith to falter as he tried to stop his momentum. The hesitation was all Lance needed and the next thing Keith knew he was flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling with Lance peering down at him, having swiped one of his long legs across Keith’s, knocking him well and truly on his ass. 

“One-nil,” Lance grinned, as Keith performed a quick kip-up so that he was back standing on his two feet. 

He walked back to the starting position, glaring at Lance all the while. 

“You got lucky,” he spat. 

“You wouldn’t be taking it easy on the little old omega now, would you?” 

Keith smirked coldly, “Maybe.” 

They started again and Keith tried to fool Lance with a false lunge which worked at first and Keith managed to grab Lance’s arm, twisting it around his back. Lance laughed and performed an impossible counter flip to free himself. Keith hadn’t realised just how flexible Lance was and in his moment of shock, Lance once again legged him up and Keith was back to staring at the ceiling with Lance peering down at him. 

“I think you’ll find that that’s two to me, none to you…Alpha,” Lance said with a wink. 

Keith wanted to stab him. 

They carried on like this with Lance easily getting out of Keith’s holds, much like he had seen with Shiro who he had mistakenly thought was taking it easy on Lance. It turns out that he wasn’t... at all. 

Keith’s pride was in serious danger of being wounded. He wasn’t keeping score but Lance was winning. It was the fucking polo match all over again.

And much like the polo match, it didn’t make sense. This was what Keith was good at. Apart from Shiro, he was undefeated. Even Kolivan couldn’t take him down. Yet he was losing to Lance? The lanky streak of piss, omega?! 

No. It didn’t matter that he was an omega. It was the fact that it was Lance. 

Okay, that was a fucking lie. Of course, it mattered. He was an alpha, he couldn’t lose to a fucking omega. 

They started again and Keith had never wanted to wipe the grin off of someone’s face more than he wanted to wipe it from Lance’s. 

It was infuriating and Keith didn’t do well with controlling his anger, as everyone knew. Sparring usually helped him let his rage out but this was doing the exact opposite. 

He wasted no time going for Lance but instead of one of his fancy martial art holds, he decided to fuck all that off and just get him in a nice and easy and hopefully painful headlock. 

Lance gasped at the move and struggled to free himself, trying to and failing to perform one of his gymnastic moves to become unstuck. 

Keith tightened his grip on his neck, smiling with sick satisfaction as Lance began to flail to try and free himself but the more he flailed, the tighter Keith squeezed.

Pretty soon Lance entered panic mode. Gone were the graceful moves he had been performing throughout the session. He looked like a disabled pigeon trying to take flight. It was desperate. His arms and legs were flying around everywhere and Keith would laugh if he wasn’t hell-bent on trying to prove a point. 

Unfortunately for Keith, he really underestimated just how long Lance’s limbs were and in one move Lance’s elbow had connected very harshly with his face and more specifically, his nose. 

He cried out in agony, instantly dropping Lance and choosing to use his hands to cup his nose instead which was throbbing in pain. He could feel warm liquid oozing out and when he took his hands away they were covered in blood. 

“Oh shit, Keith!” Lance called out putting his hand on Keith’s shoulder and sounding nothing but genuinely concerned, “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” 

But Keith wasn’t listening. All he could see was red. Literally and metaphorically. His blood-stained hands acted as a red rag to a bull and without thinking he straightened himself up and shoved Lance away from him as hard as he could.

The force knocked Lance clean on his ass and he scrambled to sit up, “Keith, I’m sorry, I--”

“Fuck you,” Keith spat, absolutely livid. His nose was still throbbing in agony and the rage was building rapidly within, he clenched his fists, not even bothering with the breathing exercises he had been taught to try and calm himself down.

Lance didn’t even have time to blink before Keith was on top of him, punching him as hard as he could in the face.

His head fell back against the mat harshly and he whipped his hands to his face, clutching his nose which, like Keith’s, had begun to gush with blood.

Keith would like to say that that was the end of it, that he took it no further. 

But unfortunately, he couldn’t say that because the next thing he knew, he had elbowed Lance harshly in the face, thrown him onto his front and twisted his arm behind his back, using his knee to keep his body pinned down to the floor.

Lance cried out in agony, as Keith continued to twist and pull his arm, higher and higher.

“Keith please! I’m sorry!!” Lance cried out over and over again but Keith wasn’t listening. He wanted to hurt him. To make him feel pain. 

It was cathartic to Keith; he was releasing everything he had kept bottled inside for the past two months - the unwanted marriage, his mom’s ring, the polo match, Lotor.

He added even more pressure to Lance’s arm and Lance let out a blood-curdling scream which reverberated off the gym walls.

Suddenly, there were rough hands on Keith’s shoulders, yanking him off Lance as though he was a rag doll. He flew across the room, falling to the floor with a harsh thud and when he looked up, he saw the terrifying sight of his brother who looked murderous. The sudden realisation of what he had just done came crashing down on Keith all at once.

“Get out. NOW,” Shiro growled using his alpha voice and Keith scrambled to get away.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

* * *

“He has a broken nose, a black eye, and a dislocated shoulder. We thought his cheekbone might be fractured but we got lucky,” Shiro said robotically. 

He had come to Keith’s room, where Keith had remained since yesterday’s incident in solitary confinement. He was leaning against the desk and had barely looked at Keith since he had entered the room, choosing to give his attention to inanimate objects instead. Keith sat on the bed with his head bowed dejectedly he could feel Shiro’s disappointment deep within his bones.

“He doesn’t want to press charges.” 

Keith nodded timidly, “That’s good, I guess.”

“But he should.” 

At that statement, Keith looked up to see his brother glaring at him coldly and Keith felt like the worst person in the world. Sure, Shiro had been mad at him before but this was another level. For the first time in his life, Keith felt like his brother hated him and he had never felt more alone.

He swallowed and offered a small nod in agreement. 

Shiro carried on as if he was reading a report out loud, “They’ve reset his nose and once the swelling goes down, it will be back to normal, so the doctor said.”

Keith nodded again in acknowledgement. 

Shiro was silent for a while, letting the gravity of his statement set in. Then he pushed off the desk and without another word headed for the door. 

“Shiro?” Keith croaked, barely able to hold back the emotion in his voice. 

“What, Keith?” Shiro said dismissively, as though he wanted nothing more to do with him.

“What are we going to tell people?” 

Shiro paused, his hand hovering above the door handle, “We’re going to say he fell off his horse.” 

Keith nodded for a third time, although Shiro still had his back to him. He knew full well that the doctor Lance would have seen would be on the palace payroll and their silence easily bought, along with anyone else who had witnessed the fallout. They probably all knew that Keith had beat the shit out of his own fiancé but as long as they had the cheques, they would go along with whatever they were told.

He watched as his brother opened the door and knew that he wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. He couldn’t bear it.

“--Can you just yell at me or call me a piece of shit or something?!” Keith blurted out. He would have been happier if Shiro had shouted at him. Screamed at him. Even hit him, for god’s sake. He would take anything over the disappointment he saw in Shiro’s face every time he looked at him.

If he could take back what he did, he would...in a heartbeat. If he could hop in a time machine and make it so yesterday had never happened he would. But he couldn’t. It had happened and he had never regretted something more in his life.

Shiro shook his head slowly and turned, finally making eye contact with him, “What’s the point?” He said quietly with a shrug, then he opened the door and left Keth alone.

* * *

Wandering the hallways used to be one of Keith’s favourite pastimes. He’d bring his friends over and they would play manhunt, whilst his mum and dad took care of royal business and Shiro was busy studying for school. The palace was big enough to get lost in, he used to love that.

Now he hated it. Hated how empty it felt, how long the hallways were, how tall the walls were, how it was still decorated the same as it was when he was young. There were too many memories here, good and bad but both made him feel the same sadness. He seldom explored anymore, going only where he needed to, never straying from his final destination.

So it was weird for him to be walking around casually, without a care in the world, and if anyone saw him, they would probably be surprised and wonder if everything was okay. But it was late at night and apart from the odd ‘housekeeper’, he was alone.

He told himself that he was just wandering randomly and that he didn’t have a purpose to where he was going but deep down he knew that was a lie.

He stopped when he got to Lance’s door and hesitated.

His subconscious had brought him here or maybe it hadn’t. Maybe Keith had brought himself here to finally own up to his own mistakes. To face Lance and apologise for his despicable behaviour. To ask for his forgiveness - not only for yesterday but for everything.

He was about to knock on the door when he heard Lance’s voice coming from inside. He tilted his head to the door and strained his ears to listen.

“I hate it here, Ronnie. I just…I want to come home,” Lance sniffed.

He was clearly on the phone to someone, as there were long pauses in between Lance speaking and Keith didn’t hear another voice in the room with him. It was also clear that he was crying and Keith’s heart sank heavily in his chest with guilt.

“I was speaking to Shiro and he said if I really wanted to I could come home and I…” _Another sniff_ , “Ronnie, I don’t care about the wedding! No. I don’t care that he’s a prince. I couldn’t give a shit. No. I…how can I marry someone I hate?” His voice broke off at the end into a sob.

Keith closed his eyes. He didn’t know why but it actually hurt him to hear Lance say those things about him. To hear that Lance hated him. What was worse was knowing that Shiro had finally given up on him. He was going to let Lance go home and Keith would finally get his wish of being left alone and allowed to make his own decisions. He should have been ecstatic. He would get his own way after all. So why did he feel like complete shit?

“I do mean that, Ronnie. I do. I hate him. I hate him so fucking much!” Lance sobbed heavily, “He doesn’t speak to me or look at me and he acts like I’m the worst person in the world and I haven’t done anything to him other than agree to something I never wanted in the first place,” Lance sniffed again. “It’s not going to get better. I just….I want to come home, I really… I really miss you guys and I’m… I’m really lonely here, Ronnie.”

Keith couldn’t bear to listen to any more. Couldn’t stand to hear Lance’s sobs any longer. It was all because of him. He had ruined everything. Everything his brother had done to try and protect the family and it was all going to be for nothing.

He should have knocked on the door. Should have got on his knees and begged Lance for his forgiveness, begged him to reconsider, begged him for one more chance. He should have. He should have knocked on the fucking door. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he just walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate Keith. He's not really a bad egg, I promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Cheers for reading this hot mess
> 
> Tumblr: Guestswithoutbags  
> Twitter: Guestsnobags


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